Tōzai
by Demi-goddess
Summary: Families drift apart after time. However, Temari feels that she's losing her little brother too soon, so she... 'enlists' the help of Kiba to get Kankuro back - and thank the gods she did, because he's in big doo-doo now. Oh boy... KanKiba
1. Introductions

_Chapter no. :_ 1  
_Chapter title:_ Introductions  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Betahed by _Ryukai-MJ_**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ -  
_Word count upon update: _1,707  
_Notes:_ A new story - my first Naruto... eek! For those who don't know me, I'm the author of that huge-ass Legend of Zelda story that wobbles about under the name of "_Shadow", _but I'm a regular reader of Naruto, both the actual manga and fanfics; I've only actually seen one whole episode of the anime, and that was... uh, it was the chuunin exams and Neji was fighting. Heeeee, love. But that was so long ago... So, this story. I'm not sure of it. it's still in the works. If people like it, I'll continue. I suppose I should just tell the story.

* * *

It wasn't post-performance adrenaline that made his hands shake as he lit his cigarette in the back alley behind the theatre. It wasn't even the night-time chill that ran through his bones.

In fact, he wasn't all too sure as to why he was shaking, quite violently too. He had done countless performances in his ten years as a professional puppeteer, and he had been quite calm and level-headed after each and every one. Never had he had to step outside and smoke two or three cigarettes in a row – not even one – after a play. Never had he had to literally rip his shirt open to cool his burning skin and press his back against the gloriously cool sand-wall.

He exhaled, glazed eyes following the cloud of smoke that drifting lazily into the dark sky. A stray thought had him wishing he could be just like that cloud – just floating languidly into nothingness, without a care in the world…

Perhaps this… _episode_ was brought on by his promotion in the theatre hierarchy. For ten years now, he had been the _ashizukai _– leg handler – which was a high position in the whole theatre, but not in general. Now, he was the _hidenzukai_, or the 'arm handler', meaning he was in charge of all the main puppets' arms and upper bodies. He was second in charge; his superior was the _omozukai_ – the chief handler, who was the head puppeteer. Quite literally. He not only controlled the whole theatre, but all the heads of the puppets as well, the most complicated part of a stage-puppet. He was a master puppeteer, having been in the theatre for over twenty years, working his way up the hierarchy, just like Kankuro.

He was desperate to be just like Shin-sensei…

The performance just passed wasn't his first as the _hidenzukai_… but maybe he was still scared that the _omozukai_ would think he was bad, and would therefore demote him. He doubted it. Without sounding vain or narcissistic, he thought he had done damn good. He had even taken over the legs of one of the puppets when the _ashizukai_ lost concentration.

Perhaps it was to do with the one who had commissioned the performance. The Daimyo was visiting Sunagakure on a tour _to make his country a better place_, as he said. _He_ was the one who requested the performance of his favourite play, and had personally asked Kame Theatre to do it. If they let him down, they would let the village down.

No, again, he thought they had done brilliantly, a joint effort by all the puppeteers, the narrator and the backstage crew who designed all the costumes and maintained the theatre itself.

It _was _something to do with the audience though…

Yes, it… it was Gaara and Temari; his brother and sister. They had _never _seen any of his performances. Ever. They thought he was a good puppeteer from fighting, but the art of fighting and the art of stage are two different things all together.

"Huh…" he chuckled, grinning darkly as he realised.

He was scared. Scared not of _them_ but – for the first time – of their _opinion_. Gaara had been in the audience because of his duty to accompany the Daimyo, and Temari had been there because she was Gaara's advisor. It didn't bother him that they never saw him in the theatre – in fact, he more than okay about it. Naturally, he felt left out of this new 'family unit', but he never had any free time now, what with the theatre and his puppets.

Besides, politics just confuses and infuriates him. Best he stay well away from it.

Thinking about it, with his now much-calmer mind – slowed by the copious amount of nicotine – he wondered _why_ he was so stressed about it. If his siblings liked it, they liked it. If they didn't, they wouldn't disown him or anything drastic like that. The pain, he supposed, would come more from himself; he'd feel like he'd let himself down. Gaara was the Kazekage and therefore the greatest shinobi in Sand, and Temari was his advisor as well as the liaison between Sand and Leaf, and so was being heralded as the smartest woman in the village.

Who was he? A puppeteer. A theatre brat. He may be a jounin – one of few in the village – but that didn't make him any better than a newly-appointed chuunin; ranks don't mean shit when it comes to ability. He couldn't do advanced jutsu, he didn't know much taijutsu and quite honestly, he didn't have the _drive_ to be a _great_ ninja; it was just something to pass the time, and to help his country.

Puppetry was all he had.

* * *

It was strange. Kankuro felt nothing inside when heard of his siblings' sudden departure from Sunagakure; he didn't feel sad, he didn't feel betrayed, nothing broke.

"Aah, yeah, didn't you know?" one of his fellow puppeteers at the theatre, Iwao, asked during their break. "Kazekage-sama asked to talk Hokage-sama to talk 'bout Earth Country or somethin'… why didn't _you_ know? You're Kazekage-sama's big brother, after all!"

Kankuro said nothing; he simply turned back to Karasu, who was sat in his lap, awaiting further maintenance. Usually, he _was_ notified of these types of things, and he would accompany his siblings on their journey. He might not get involved in the politics, but… it was a holiday and all that. More time to work on his puppets without nosy actors staring over his shoulder…

"Get out of it!" Kankuro snapped, throwing a broken arm-joint at the guy who thought he could poke his beloved puppet and get away with it. A resounding yelp assured him that the wooden object had hit perfect target. "Fuckin' prick…"

"Jeez, Kankuro," Iwao whistled, shaking his head and brushing dirty blond locks away from cerise eyes. "I didn't know you were sore about it."

"Sore about what?" Kankuro mumbled, fiddling with Karasu's jaw hinge.

"Them leavin' you behind. I didn' even know _you_ didn't know."

Kankuro sighed. "I'm not sore. I only did _that_ because _no one_ touches my puppets, especially not Karasu."

"Not even me?"

"No," he huffed, slapping Iwao's hand away.

"Not even little brother?"

"Not even Gaara. Well, I doubt he'd even _want_ to go near Karasu."

"Why not?" Iwao asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Not his thing," Kankuro replied with a shrug. "Not Temari's, either. Hell, she was the one who teased me as a kid for _wearing make-up _and _playing with dolls_, as she said."

"Well, it is a bit-"

Kankuro snorted. "Says the guy with blond hair, pink eyes and a girlier frame than most of the women in this village, who _also_ wears make-up and plays with dolls."

"Fuck you."

The elder simply smirked at the childish retort.

"…So it really doesn't bother you that they left you behind, and without a "buh-bye!" note?" Iwao asked, sitting opposite Kankuro and watching him work.

"Nope."

"…You're growing apart, aren't you?"

"Yup."

"…And that don't bother ya?"

"Nope."

"…But you're the Sand Siblings and-!"

"Fuckin'… Iwao, what's with all the goddamn questions?"

The younger shrugged. "Just worried 'bout ya."

"Don't be. I'm a big boy now." The brunet sighed, rubbing his brow. "Our family died years ago. No point in trying to transform the dying when your name isn't Akasuna no Sasori…"

* * *

"Did you have a nice trip?" Kankuro asked from his position leaning against the wall of one of the palace's many corridors.

Temari flinched and spun around to face him. "Oh. Who are you?"

The smirk on her face ruined her words.

"Long time, no see, little brother," she greeted, stepping up to him. "What brings you to our fair abode?"

Kankuro jerked his unadorned head in the direction of a door to his left. It bore the sign '_Treasury'_.

"More money, eh? Karasu eating you out of house and home?"

"Something like that," he replied, smirking somewhat. "So how is _triumphant Konoha_? Has he run away again yet?"

"By '_he'_ I assume you mean Uchiha Sasuke. No, he hasn't. He's quite content in Konoha, actually. Uzumaki won't let him out of his sight, and less said about that Haruno girl, the better. And… Konoha itself?" Temari shrugged. "The same as always. Buncha happies floating about. And I'm excluding Gai and Rock Lee. Question is, how are _you_? I haven't seen you in… _months_… haven't spoken to you properly in nearly a _year_."

Kankuro let a wry smile curl his unpainted lips. "I've been breathing."

"Well, breathing's good, I suppose. How's Kame Theatre?"

"Same old. How's Gaara?"

"Same old," Temari replied with a saddening smile. "Kankuro…"

"Hm?"

"This is bad."

"What is?"

"_Us_."

"…What about us?"

Her sea-blue eyes flashed with anger. "I mean _this_! We don't know anything about each other now! We might as well be drifting friends!"

"People drift apart, it's natural."

"Not siblings – not _us_! What about all the shit we've been through?"

Their conversation paused as a man exited the treasury, handing Kankuro a paper bag, obviously filled with money.

"We've been through a heck of a load of shit," Kankuro agreed, beginning to turn away. "But that's the past."

"Only if you make it so. I feel like I haven't talked to you in _years!_ And, according to Baki, you haven't taken a mission in over eighteen months. If memory serves right, eighteen months ago, you were told by Shin-sensei that you were ready to be his underling. You've changed, Kankuro. And it's that damn theatre's fault."

He began to walk away. "Temari, as old as this line may be, if you truly love me and want me to be happy, you'll let me do this. And what I want to do… is be Suna's Master Puppeteer."

* * *

Demi: Okay, so Kiba's _not actually in this chapter_ lol. This could, in all fairness, be a prologue, but just... hang in there, please? :3

Reviews _do_ make me a happy bunny!


	2. Act One, Seen One

_Chapter no. :_ 2  
_Chapter title: _Act One, Seen One  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Betahed by _Ryukai-MJ_**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto , it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ 3  
_Word count upon update: _4,906  
_Notes: _Thank you for the reviews :) They make me feel special, and make me update quicker. And a warning note: the "Kame-za" is the Kame Theatre, which is the theatre Kankuro is part of. "-za" if I'm informed correctly by my Japanese Stage book, is sort of a collective honorific-slash-title. Make sense? Good.

* * *

He knew, now, too well, why Nara Shikamaru smoked. Nicotine slows the mind, relaxes you, calms you down. It stops the incessant buzzing in your head. It gives you a reason to step outside and sit by yourself for a while.

Of course, it has his down sides. His health will fail after a while and he'll die; that's okay. He's a ninja – he's not supposed to die old. It's an anti-social habit; so what? He's not everyone's best friend anyway. Bad breath and teeth? That's what toothbrushes and gum are for. Waste of money? He has plenty of that.

Any argument, he could probably shoot down. Besides, the nicotine rush makes him a more bearable bastard.

Most of the puppeteers at Kame-za hate his habit. They say the age old of argument of _'it'll kill you'._ Being a shinobi of the Sand is a hell of a lot more dangerous than smoking one of two cigarettes a day. When he was fifteen, they gave up trying to make him stop, but still don't hide their dislike of it, and Kankuro doubted it would ever stop. Shin-sensei smoked too – that's where he picked up the habit – and the forty-something year old was as fit as one could be with the lungs of an eighty-year old.

Iwao is the only one who harasses him still.

"You may look goddamn-sinfully sexy smoking now, but when you're as old as Shin-sensei… oh, no, no, no – _no_."

"I'm not going to live until I'm as old as Shin-sensei," he would reply.

Iwao would just give him a dubious look and say nothing more. Either they would resume their work – usually rehearsing – or settle into silence as they sat in the back alley, Kankuro _looking sinfully sexy_ as Iwao called it. It wasn't that he had a crush on Kankuro; he respected the elder puppeteer like no other, but… there was no denying that he was very handsome, with masculine features and muscular body.

Nice _package_ too.

"You're staring again," Kankuro muttered, white stick once again hanging between thumb and forefinger.

The blond shook his head. "Aah, yeah, just drinking in the sight. You keep saying y'gunna die young – might as well enjoy the sight whilst it's still here," he replied coolly. Kankuro merely grunted. "Hey, what's it like bein' a ninja?"

"Nothing special."

"But… you get to fight infamous people and beat their sorry asses into the ground! You even met Akasuna no Sasori! And you're revered as an asset to the village!"

"Exactly – I'm a tool. Ninja are only a tool for other people's needs. And Sasori was a Puppet Master, there's no denying that and I respect him for it, but he was on the wrong path and…" The brunet shook his head. "Being a shinobi is only great for those who have a goal."

"Like that Uzumaki kid? The blond one? Don't he wanna be Hokage?"

"Precisely."

"And why are _you_ a ninja?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"…Aah… Are you giving up, then? You haven't taken a mission in months."

"Kame-za is my future," was all Kankuro said.

"Sand and Leaf will lose a great shinobi."

"If you say so…"

* * *

It was at a _catch-up_ meal in Konoha when Sakura asked, "Hey Temari-san? Is Kankuro-san unwell?"

The eldest sibling glanced up from her meal to regard the pink-haired nin across the table. Other shinobi who were also eating with them looked up as well, obviously curious to the puppeteer's absence. It was Godaime Kazekage's second visit without his brother and the Leaf shinobi who were close to the siblings were somewhat concerned, but had been afraid to ask.

"Define 'unwell'," Temari replied, cocking her head.

"Troublesome woman…" she heard Shikamaru mutter from her left.

"I mean, is he sick?" the medic-nin clarified. "I haven't seen him for… years."

"Neither have I, it feels like," Temari muttered.

"Why not?" Naruto asked; noodles hung out of his mouth in a not-so-appetising way.

Gaara remained silent.

"Gaara-kun, have you spoken to your brother?" Lee enquired.

"No."

Lee nodded, satisfied with the redhead's simple answer; he was used to the other's lack of words.

"He is not sick, though," the Kazekage continued, surprising Lee – as well as the others, somewhat. "According to Shin-san of the Kame Theatre, he is in perfect health, albeit for a smoking habit and a tendency to overwork himself. He was recently promoted in the theatre. His skills have increased, pardon my pun, _dramatically_."

"People downtown are singing his praises," Temari agreed. "I _did_ speak to him our previous visit here, but he… he didn't care that we're drifting apart. He's determined to become a Master Puppeteer, and therefore he's concentrating on the theatre – he hasn't taken a mission for over a year and a half."

"That's not right…" they heard Kiba mumble.

"What's not right, Kiba-kun?" Hinata asked quietly.

"He's a damn good shinobi – he shouldn't be giving up!" he said firmly. "He's saved my ass on various occasions! I bet he's one of the best shinobi in Wind Country!"

"Try telling him that."

"You can't let him give up!"

"Listen, Inuzuka," the eldest sibling stated slowly. "Kankuro is long gone from the ninja world. He's… he's just a normal civilian now. I've seen his apartment – it's a shithole, I must add – and he's locked all his shinobi gear away; even his hitae-ate hood, which I doubt he's even seen since his last mission nearly two years ago. If you feel that strongly about him giving up, then I suggest you go to Suna yourself."

"I will then." Kiba actually got up from the table. "C'mon, Akamaru. Let's go kick puppet ass."

The big white dog barked loudly and followed his master from the restaurant patio.

There was silence.

"I didn't think he would do it," Temari muttered. "It's a wasted trip, I tell you."

Gaara locked eyes with his sister. "If anyone is going to bring Kankuro back to us, it's him."

She had never seen so many emotions swirling around in his eyes.

* * *

Kiba had only been to Wind Country a couple of times, and Sand maybe once or twice. Looking up at that tiered cliff face, feeling the stares of perhaps a hundred Sand ninja on him more so than the hot sun, he felt that maybe – just _maybe_ – this was a bad idea…

"State your purpose!" a shinobi yelled from the partition in the cliff.

No, he was here because of Kankuro. He had come this far – three _fucking_ days – and travelled through thick forest and across shifting sands, and he wasn't going to turn back now. In fact, he was ready to march right up to that damn puppeteer and give him a good size portion of his mind.

"I'm here by order of Godaime Kazekage to see Sabaku no Kankuro. I come from Konoha-" He held a finger to his headband. "My name is Inuzuka Kiba and I mean no harm."

The Sand nin paused, before gesturing for him to come closer. "Enter, Inuzuka Kiba," he yelled, and Kiba obeyed, nudging Akamaru forward. The guard walked with him through the cliff's corridor. "Why have _you_ been sent to see Kankuro-san, might I ask, Inuzuka-san?"

"Because he needs a kick up the ass." Kiba grinned. "Now, mind telling me where I can find the bastard?"

The guard blinked in surprise, faltering. "Uhm, surely you want to rest? You've travelled-"

"Nah… I need to speak to him whilst the flame still burns hot."

"I'll have the palace guard notified that you will be returning there later, then. Kankuro-san lives downtown. Ask for the Kame Theatre. If you don't find him there, I'm sure one of the actors will show you to his apartment."

"Thanks!" Kiba yelled as Akamaru bounded off.

* * *

The first time Kankuro stepped into the downtown theatre, he knew he was home. _This_ was home. Not the Kage's palace, not even his own apartment felt as right as being in the Kame. That's why he spent so much time there, sat in the audience's seats, sprawled out on the staging, perched on the rafters…

He never feels at home, however – _even_ at Kame-za – whenever there's an angry-looking dog-nin striding towards him with a strange glint in his eye.

"Who is _that_?" Iwao asked, crossing his arms over his chest, black-painted pink eyes following the brunet and large white dog. "He's… from Konoha, I think… yeah, I see a swirl. For you?"

"Better fucking not be…"

"Oi, puppet-dick!"

"Yup, he's for you…" Iwao wandered off innocently, earning a curse from Kankuro.

He looked back. "Inuzuka…" he growled, scowling. Kiba and Akamaru leapt onto the stage; all three ignored the questioning stares they were getting. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was in the area… thought I'd pop in to see how you were…"

"Bullshit. You've been speaking to Temari."

"Guess she's telling the truth then," Kiba replied, rolling his eyes before frowning. "What's this I hear about you locking your shinobi gear away and turning the cold shoulder on your brother and sister?"

Suddenly, Kankuro grabbed his upper arm and began to steer him towards the backstage; he ignored Kiba's protests and Akamaru's barking. Pausing only to sling Karasu over his shoulder, he dragged the other nin out of the alley door and slammed him against the opposing wall, banging the door shut.

"What the hell, bastard?" Kiba growled.

"You were too loud, and the theatre has perfect acoustics – you can whisper and the whole troupe would hear you," Kankuro explained, frustration clear in his voice. He adjusted Karasu on his back with a flick of his chakra strings. "Listen, I don't know _why_ you're really here, but it's clear that Temari asked you to come. I'm sorry that you came all this way, bu-"

Kiba laughed. "Fuck no, I came of my own accord… kinda. See, we were having a big meal and they were talking about you and Temari said that she couldn't get you to see sense-"

"What 'sense'?" Kankuro cut in.

"Giving up on being a shinobi and giving up on your family. Why? What's so great about this place?"

"I'm seeing perfect sense. I feel at home here, and I have a goal here." Kankuro snorted. "Being a ninja… all I gain from that is the greater possibility of dying sooner, injury and a monotonous existence as a tool. Here, in the theatre, I have a new family and a reason to continue as with this, I'll become a Master Puppeteer."

"You're already a puppet master – you're the best puppeteer I've ever seen!"

"…How many puppeteers have you actually seen?"

"…None, but that's beside the point!"

The elder chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "Maybe, when I finally reach the highest puppeteering level, I'll unlock my shinobi gear."

"And how long do you think that's gunna take?"

"Another ten years experience at my current level at least," he answered as if observing the weather; the sky is blue, grass is green, another ten years gone from my life – that sort of thing.

Kiba gawped. "But… you'll be… like, thirty-something then! I'll probably be dead by then!"

"What the hell has this got to do with you?"

"It's…!" The feral nin huffed. "I owe you."

"What?"

"Last year or so. Border Town to Rain Country. You saved my ass from that missing-nin."

"All I did was distract her with Karasu, after stumbling across your sorry state," Kankuro muttered, scowling. "That wasn't saving your ass. I didn't attack her in any way. You saved your own ass. Our debt to each other was cancelled when you saved _my_ ass from those nin who kidnapped Matsuri, _years ago_."

"Yeah, well since you stumbled across me outside Border Town, that debt got dredged back up."

"Is _that_ why you're here? Because of… your stupid _pride_? Fucking dogs!" Green eyes flashed with fierce emotion. "Fuckin' Leaf nin! Always meddling! Always finding a way to wiggle your scrawny little behinds into other people's business by managing to include yourselves in some retarded way!"

"I'm only including myself because I…" Kiba sighed. "I feel that it's my duty to."

"Huh… your _duty_. S'at what you call it these days…"

"I'm not gunna lie and say you're my friend, Kankuro. But we've been through a hell of a lot of shit together-"

"And I've been through _a hell of a lot __**more**__ shit_ with Temari and Gaara, but… well, I guess you see."

"Yeah, what's with that?"

Kankuro snorted. "Why the hell am I explaining this crap to you? Why the hell are people getting involved? First Iwao, then my sister and now _you_. Why can't people just grasp the fact that I was born to be a puppeteer, _not_ a ninja and _not_ some political cunt who thinks only of the shinobi communities in the city. Now, if you don't mind, I have a rehearsal to attend."

"Wait-!"

"No, Inuzuka. Go back to Konoha. Live your own life." He paused, opening the door. "It was good to see you again, Mutt."

"Hey-!" But the metal door clanged shut, a deadbolt sliding across. "Fucking…!"

"Aah, you!"

Kiba turned to see that blond he had seen beside Kankuro on stage, there at the end of the alleyway.

"Guess that didn't go so well, ne?"

"Who are you?" Kiba asked, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling defensive.

"'Name's Iwao," the pink-eyed male replied, strolling towards him in the traditional black garb of Kame-za, with the white-painted skin and strange black lines across his face. "I'm the _ashizukai_ at the theatre."

"The what?"

Iwao grunted. "Leg handler. Kankuro's my sempai. I'm the third highest puppeteer in the theatre, and one of the main characters in most of our plays. And you are…?"

"Inuzuka Kiba."

"Aah, an Inuzuka – I should have known from the triangles and dog. More of a cat person, me…" Iwao seemed to drawl his words, much like Kankuro, although the brunet was much sharper in tone. "But what do you want with Kankuro, eh?"

"Plan was to kick his ass back to the Kage's palace, but I guess I failed my mission."

"But why _you_? Oh…! Oh, wait no, I know! You're the Konoha nin he saved from some musical twins or something, right?"

"Musical…?" Kiba echoed, bewildered, before he realised. "Oh, Sakon and Ukon of Sound Four… yeah, and then I saved _his_ ass when he was having some trouble with a ninja who had helped take Gaara's student. _Then_, last year or so, he saved _my_ ass just outside Border Town to Rain, in Fire Country."

"And you're here now, trying to repay him before he _really_ cuts his ties from your world, hm?"

"Something like that."

Iwao quirked an eyebrow and a coy smile curled his lips. "Really, now? Is that all?"

"Er… yeah. It would be a great loss if Kankuro gave up being a ninja."

"Precisely what I told him. Walk with me, Inuzuka Kiba…"

The dog-nin did as told, slowly following after the mysterious puppeteer. Akamaru, beside him, whined low in his throat.

"_Are you sure about this?_" the dog was asking.

"It'll be okay," Kiba assured, as they strode out onto the main street.

Suna, itself, was a strange place. It was not 'a bustling city' but neither was it 'a quiet one'; it was a mixture of the two, as certain parts of the hidden village were certain things. Downtown Suna was the busiest part, with all the market stalls and entertainment areas, like the Kame Theatre. There was, however, a theatre nearer the centre of Suna, but they specialised in Kabuki, whilst Kame-za did most types of stage, though they did a lot of Bunraku – the art of puppetry.

The street they were on was the main entertainment street, which led into Suna's main marketplace; this was the direction Iwao led Kiba.

"So…" the puppeteer began, lacing his hands behind his head. "What brought'cha here?"

"Kankuro's sister told me about him – or rather, the _lack of him_."

Iwao nodded thoughtfully. "Aah, yeah. See, Kankuro wants to be a Master Puppeteer. Now, there are two types of Puppet Masters: one is the _official_ type, and the title can only be achieved onstage after over thirty years of experience and promotion from another Puppet Master. The second type is a puppeteer who is recognised by other puppeteers as one with incredibly skill. Akasuna no Sasori was that type of Puppet Master, although he _was_ part of the uptown troupe. That's why they stopped doing Bunraku – people associated that theatre with _him_ and his human puppets."

"Then why-?"

"Because Kankuro's as stubborn as a mule with a spiked kunai shoved up its behind? I dunno. But I know Kankuro loves the theatre. He once told me – whilst inebriated somewhat, I must add – that when he lived with his siblings and didn't attend the theatre as often, he felt suffocated and severed from his family. They were always off doing politics and the ilk; he could never talk to them about things. With us – the theatre – he… he's around his own kind. We're not ninja… but we're puppeteers, servants to the great stage arts. However…"

"…What?"

Iwao went silent, painted brow creasing. He chewed on his lower lip before sighing. He still didn't reply until after they'd escaped the turbulent marketplace, which was much different to Konoha's marketplace – _that_ was quiet and not busy, customers approaching stalls of their own accord, whilst Suna's was pure chaos: stall tenders pushed items into Kiba's face, grabbed Akamaru to offer washing and grooming products and people shouting their prices and auctions.

"Get off!" he yelled as a toothless man grabbed his arm. Iwao suddenly appeared from the crowd and slapped the man around the head, leading the dog-nin out of the turmoil. "Gods above! Why did we go through _that_?"

"Because we had to."

"Right… now, you were saying?"

"Hm?"

Kiba frowned. "…You were saying why Kankuro likes the theatre, and then you said 'However…'."

"Aah… yeah…" Iwao frowned once again. "As… As much as I want Kankuro happy…"

"…This is serious, isn't it?" the brunet asked.

"Aah…"

* * *

Demi: Woah-noes!

Review, and hopefully an update will answer everything!


	3. Backstage? Pass

_Chapter no. :_ 3  
_Chapter title: _Backstage? Pass  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Un-beta'ed**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto , it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ 4  
_Word count upon update: _7,398  
_Notes: _Ryukai is havin' a wee bit of trouble and so cannay beta _Tozai_, therefore I decided to update nonetheless, or it'd be way too long. Nothing much to say, apart from the fact that _Shadow_ readers may recognise one of the characters in this chapter ;)

* * *

"Why is _Kiba_ the one to help Kankuro? Shouldn't you two be in Suna, kicking his ass?"

Temari rolled her eyes, leaning forward on the table and pointing her chopsticks at Naruto as she chewed on her rice.

"I've tried, and Gaara has enough on his plate to begin with – he doesn't need to add 'Wooden-Assed Brother' to his workload," she said.

Gaara looked down at his food wordlessly; Lee swore he saw sadness flicker through teal orbs.

"Kiba's as hot headed and stubborn as my little brother, and his sense of duty will make him even more stubborn to get Kankuro out of that theatre and back into his shinobi sandals."

"But what if he fails?" Sakura asked. "Despite the fact that Kiba and Kankuro have a past of helping each other out, I doubt you could call them 'friends'."

"Kiba won't fail. His pride won't let him. He'll just keep barking."

"S-Sounds like Kiba-kun…" Hinata murmured.

"But if he _does_ fail… I'll send _baby_ brother after him."

Everyone's stares shot to Gaara, whose own gaze shot up to lock with Temari's. The look he gave her was fierce, almost reminiscent of his past-self. The glare intensified when Naruto had the audacity to laugh.

"I'll kill you," he hissed.

"Sure you will, _baby_ _brother_," Naruto mocked, grinning mischievously.

No one saw the sand coming.

* * *

"Kankuro-kun."

His back stiffened as he looked up in the mirror. He could never forget the raspy, yet firm tone of Shin-sensei; nor could he fail to recall his elder's scent – the smell of nicotine hidden beneath swathes of spices.

"Shin-sensei," he said quickly, bowing, and placing the red make-up on the temporary dressing table on stage.

Soft brown eyes twinkled and a trembling hand came up to raise him from his bow. That was a strange trait of Shin-sensei, Kankuro mused as he stood straight; his hands trembled something awful, until he was in control of a puppet – _then_ his grip was the firmest and steadiest in all the lands. He could land a grain of sand on a single hair strand with his chakra strings. Kankuro couldn't help but admire a puppeteer like that…

Despite that fact that the forty year old looked sixty or so. Time had not been kind to Shin-sensei.

"Have you seen Iwao-kun, oh great warrior?" his elder asked, mirth twinkling bright in his eyes. "We cannot rehearse without ourghost."

Kankuro shook his head. "No, I haven't seen him since…"

"Since?" Shin prodded.

"…A Konoha nin came to see me. I had to step outside and talk with them privately. I had been with Iwao until that point."

"A Konoha nin, hm?" Shin raised a black eyebrow. "Why would a Konoha nin come to see you, Kankuro-kun?"

"I'm not sure… I think he missed me. He's an Inuzuka – dogs are strange creatures."

Shin chuckled breathily. "I don't care much for dogs."

"'Hoy, Shin-sensei! Kankuro-senpai!"

Both puppeteers turned to regard the only female in their troupe, who was hanging upside down, haphazardly, from the staging's rafters. Tsukiko was a dramatic girl in her own right, bright green hair sticking up in all directions and bright yellow cat-like eyes always twinkling with some mischievous plan or thought. Kankuro got on well with her, in the few times they talked; she reminded him of a younger version of his sister… a _less scary_, _less nagging_ younger version…

"'M sorry for interrupting, but…" She fell to the floor with a thump, before scrabbling to her feet and bowing to both of them; she also wore the standard Kame Theatre black outfit, although hers had to be… _tailored_ somewhat, and _her_ stage make-up was pink in tone. "I saw Iwao-kun leave through the main doors, just after Kankuro-senpai left with that Inuzuka-nin. He, uh, looked a little strange, so… I followed 'im and he went into that alley and told that Inuzuka-nin to walk with 'im."

"Son of a-!" He bit his tongue, looking up at Shin. "Can-?"

"Go, Kankuro-kun. Our performance isn't until next week, and I suppose one afternoon off won't hurt," the elder told him with a smile. "Besides, it seems that your dog-nin is in trouble."

"He's not my…" He sighed. "Thank you, Shin-sensei."

"Can I come with?" Tsukiko asked excitedly.

Kankuro glanced at her.

"I'll be _quiet_!"

"Fine, come."

* * *

Kiba glanced worriedly at Iwao as they continued to walk through the streets of Suna. He had thought this situation was simple: that Temari and Gaara missed their brother, and that Suna was losing one of its best ninja. So what was Iwao so worried about that he had to take time to think through his words or was hesitant to reveal his worries to Kiba?

And worried Iwao was – Kiba could _smell_ the anxiety rolling off the blond puppeteer like he was doused in it.

"I've heard stories… about Uchiha," Iwao suddenly said.

"…What about them?"

"How… they go blind after a while because of a certain strand of their bloodlimit."

Kiba nodded. "Yeah. But what has this got to do with-?"

"It happens to puppeteers too."

"What, they go blind?"

"No!" Iwao yelled, clenching his fists, pink eyes glowing with frustration. "Ugh, let me finish! Now I know why I prefer cats – dogs are so damn impatient."

Akamaru barked with indignation. Kiba held his tongue. Iwao looked fucking scary with his black-lined stage make-up.

"It has something to do with the senses – the most important one of all." Iwao sighed. "Humans can be blind and live; sight dogs or helpers are an aid. Hearing isn't a necessity – it might be for ninja, but not for human beings in general; there's sign language to help. We don't need smell or taste that much… touch is the most important sense to a living thing. Doctors says that touch is the first sense we gain in the womb and psychologists say that people who go without touch for a long time develop something called 'Touch Hunger'; those who lose the other senses don't gain this type of hunger."

"Sorry, but I… I don't understand what this has to do with Kankuro."

"Hands are the most important things to a puppeteer, as you could probably guess. You know, Kankuro's hands, I think, are the softest pair of hands I've felt, despite the scars of past calluses. He takes care of his hands, and the constant stream of chakra doesn't hurt either."

Suddenly, Kiba felt like he knew where this was going. The Sharingan was a powerful bloodlimit and the Mangekyo Sharingan was even more powerful; if Kiba remembered correctly from speaking with Kakashi, the Sharingan used a lot of chakra (hence why the Copy Nin kept it covered, to conserve his chakra) and the major drawback of the Mangekyo Sharingan was that it slowly begins to destroy the user's eyesight until they become completely blind; it's believed that this was because of the huge amount of chakra that travelled through the eyes…

So if there was a constant stream of chakra in a puppeteer's hands…

Kiba suddenly stopped walked, staring at Iwao in shock. "Are you trying to tell me that… Kankuro's going to lose his sense of touch?"

* * *

"So, who is he?"

Kankuro suddenly regretted bringing the green-haired girl along.

"Just someone from the past," he mumbled.

"Then why's he in the present, eh? Eh?"

"Because he's annoying… like someone else I know."

"Iwao?"

"No. _You_."

"Say no more, say no more – I'll shuttit."

The elder sighed, glancing left to right as they wandered along the main entertainment street, heading towards the market place. His sharp eyes looked down alleyways and roamed over street mats and their tenders who shouted out their prices and values. He ignored the curious looks they _both_ received. Well, he supposed, that's what they got for walking the streets in their Kabuki make-up.

"He _is_ sexy though…"

"I thought you said you were going to shut up."

"What? I'm just saying..." Tsukiko looked up at him, slyly. "Why do you get so defensive?"

"I'm not."

"Oh my gods, you so were! Shin-sensei called him _your dog-nin_. So is he an ex?"

Kankuro scowled. "No. He's not even a friend. He's just an annoying ass that occasionally needs saved. Like now."

"…Your damsel in distress?"

When Kankuro didn't reply, she grinned like the cat with cream.

"Your silence speak volumes, my dear senpai!" she sang.

"Why don't _you_ give it a try?"

* * *

He couldn't believe it. He _refused_ to believe it.

"Tell me you're fucking with me."

Iwao gave him a chiding stare. "Honey, if I were fuckin' with you, you would know. And since you're asking me, that means you don't know. And if you don't know, I'm therefore not fuckin' with you."

Kiba growled. "Just tell me straight."

"Okay, okay… jeez…" Iwao rubbed the back of his neck. "Kankuro doesn't know this yet. He doesn't even know what he's getting himself into, with all this overworking and… Shin-sensei suffers from it – it's why his hands shake. It's because he can't feel anything in them. When he creates chakra strings, they stop shaking, but he still can't feel anything. I know this because my father began to suffer from it before he committed suicide."

"Why isn't this known?" Kiba demanded, wincing when he heard of Iwao's father. "Almost everyone knows about the dangers of a Sharingan. Since Suna is the birth place of puppetry-!"

"Actually, Bunraku's birthplace a town that doesn't exist anymore, but technicalities, technicalities." Iwao looked Kiba straight in the eye. "It ain't known because it only happens to puppeteers like Shin-sensei and the greats before him who pumped so much chakra through their fingers because of the amount of training or performances they did. And when they developed this… this loss of feeling in their hands and arms, they were too ashamed to tell anyone and hid it. Not only that, but… some of our great puppeteers didn't even notice – I guess they didn't have the types of friends or acquaintances who gave physical affection or whatnot. I'm scared that Kankuro's developing the same thing."

"So this _is_ serious…" the dog-nin murmured. "I'm guessing Gaara and Temari don't know about this."

Iwao shook his head.

"So why don't you just tell him?"

"It's not that simple," the blond muttered. He turned and began walking again, Kiba having to run after him to keep up. "To be honest, if I told him, he either wouldn't believe me, or… he'd not care."

"_Not care?"_

"Excuse my forwardness-" Iwao _actually_ giggled. "But he has no one to _touch_, if you get my drift. He could happily live the rest of his life carving his puppets and performing, going home to his little shithole of an apartment and continue being a fuckin' friendless miser!"

"Woah, calm down, man!"

Iwao sighed, stopping again. "Sorry, I just… Kankuro's the only one in the theatre I feel I have to worry about. All the others are little shits."

"'Hoy, Iwao-kun!"

"Like the one approaching now…"

Kiba turned his head to see a familiar brunet striding towards them with a not-so-familiar green-haired girl in tow. Both wore the familiar black garb but they had totally different expressions – the girl was grinning (with strange pink markings), whilst Kankuro…

"Something tells me he's not happy," Iwao said with a smirk.

"Really? Tell me, was it that huge scowl and glare he's sporting that tells you so?" Kiba asked.

"Possibly…"

"Iwao, you fucking bastard," the fuming one snapped; the red lines on his face made him look even more fearsome. "Where the hell have you been? Rehearsal's been cancelled because of you!"

"I've been showing Kiba-kun around the village," Iwao replied innocently. "Rehearsal's cancelled?"

Kankuro ignored his fellow puppeteer and whirled on Kiba. "I thought I told you to go back home."

"You're not the boss of me. Put your claws back in," the dog-nin muttered. "Besides, I only just got here. Three fucking days. I'm not going back already – that'd be suicide."

"And if you make him, Kankuro-senpai, _that_ would be murder," the green-haired girl pointed out.

"Why are you still here?"

She ignored him. "Pay no heed to cranky-Kanky, Inuzuka-san." Kiba tried to hold back a snicker, which doubled when Kankuro glared fiercely at her and then him. "M'name's Tsukiko. Just call me Tsuki."

"Inuzuka Kiba," he greeted, smiling politely.

"Hey! And…" She squatted next to his big white dog. "Who's this handsome boy?"

"His name's Akamaru."

"Hey Aka-"

"Okay, enough – it's just a dog," Kankuro snapped, rubbing his brow, regardless of his make-up.

Kiba stared at him with shock. "He's not just a dog!" he snarled. "Take that back!"

Kankuro gave him such a strange look that Kiba froze. He couldn't decipher it at all. And the scent pouring off the elder was so bizarre that it actually boggled his mind. But before he could say anything more, the still-scowling Sabaku turned back to Iwao and hissed:

"Shin-sensei will want an explanation. And you better be at tomorrow's rehearsal. _On time._"

He then strode off.

"Uhm…" Iwao scratched the back of his neck. "Guess I _did_ kinda piss him off, then… I'll see you tomorrow, Tsukiko-chan. I'll see you some other time, Kiba-kun."

Iwao left, leaving Kiba and Tsukiko stood in the middle of the street, gaining weird looks from passersby.

"Huh… did Iwao finish his tour?" she asked, still at Akamaru's level.

"No… we stopped to… talk about things."

She cocked her head. "Oh, like what?" When he winced apologetically, she laughed. "Say no more, it ain't my business. Well, do'ya want me t'take ya to your room for the night?"

"Not exactly… it's at Kazekage-sama's palace and…" He looked up at the sun, which showed it was mid-afternoon. "I don't think I could handle being there for long. Plus… I don't think I've ever _really_ seen Suna."

"Want a tour?" Tsukiko offered.

"Sure."

Akamaru barked right in her face, but she simply laughed, wiping the condensation off her cheek.

"Alright, let's go then!"

"Before we head off…"

She looked back at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"…_Cranky-Kanky?_ Seriously?

* * *

Demi: point one, i cannay find anything about _why_ the Mangekyou Sharingan makes the user blind. Unless i'm blind myself, it's not stated... yet. Point two... Not getting many reviews for this story... :( is it nay good?


	4. Actions Speak Louder than Words

_Chapter no. :_ 4  
_Chapter title: _Actions Speak Louder than Words  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Beta'ed by Ryukai MJ **:3  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto , it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ 9  
_Word count upon update: _12,905  
_Notes:_ I merged chapters four and five as I felt this story was dragging on a bit. I'm still not sure about this story - I don't really like it :S

* * *

It was just after the sun dipped down below the horizon when Tsukiko waved Kiba goodbye on the street as he entered the Kage's dwellings. It wasn't because it was night time, and therefore it was the traditional time to sleep; actually, it was temperature. In Suna, as soon as the burning-hot sun set, the temperature plummeted to near-freezing. Kiba wasn't used to such cold. In Konoha, it was pretty damn warm twenty-four-seven.

So as soon as he was led to his living quarters by the silent attendant, he dived onto the bed and wrapped himself in the many blankets that had been placed beside his futon. Akamaru dived at the bundle his master was in and nosed around, trying to find an opening. Kiba relented his hold on the covers and allowed his dog to cuddle with him, shivering in the cool air.

"Gods be damned, it's cold…" he mumbled, holding onto Akamaru with a death grip, who whined low in his throat. "Okay, boy, we'll leave a little sooner than planned, yeah? I just gotta do _one more thing_…"

* * *

Across the village, hours later, Kankuro's eyes snapped open, and he woke from a tumultuous sleep. For a moment or two, he lay still, letting the nightmare roll away into the deep recesses of his mind, where it would lie dormant until the next time he closed his eyes.

There was movement to his left. He lazily rolled his head on the hard pillow to meet the twinkling green eyes of a small black kitten who was padding across the mattress with trotting steps. It leapt at him, landing on his chest and squeaking at him. No, it didn't 'meow' – it was too young, so it merely squeaked, despite its hardest efforts. Kankuro raised a hand and the kitten nuzzled it excitedly, eyes closing and a purr instantly flying from its throat.

"What's wrong, little guy?" he asked. "No point in nuzzling that hand – I slept on it, so it's dead."

At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

"'Hoy," his roommate called suddenly from his doorway. "There's someone at the door. And where did you put my smokes?"

"You ran out, remember?" Kankuro muttered, shifting the kitten into his arms and sitting up.

"Yeah, and you said you'd buy me more."

"And I told you I had a shit day yesterday – I didn't remember, sorry," the Sabaku snapped. "Have mine. They're on the counter." He stood up just as there was a frustrated-sounding 'bang' at the door, followed by a strange whine. "If that's who I fuckin' think it is…"

"Smelt a bit canine to me, 'Neki," his roommate commented; Kankuro didn't seem fazed by the strange name.

"Fuck."

Kankuro strode to the front door of his ground floor apartment, ignoring the fact he was dressed only in his underwear, and unlocked it, pulling the door open and finding his stare locked with a gaze of deepest brown, which belonged to – as he suspected and feared – Kiba Inuzuka. The dog-nin's eyes widened, as if shocked about seeing Kankuro.

He sighed. "What?"

"Good morning to you too," the younger reply with a large grin. "Who's your friend?"

The kitten in his arms wriggled deeper into the crook of his elbow and gave a little hiss.

"Not a morning person, _either_."

"Inuzuka, what are you doing here? And how did you _get here_?"

"Just checking up on you and… I walked here? Well, Akamaru walked here, I just-"

"I _meant_ how did you find out I lived here?"

"Tsukiko. She said her brother lived with you and she gave me the address."

Kankuro rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Sleep well?"

"Oh… _beautifully_."

"I can tell."

"'Hoy, Maneki-chan, who is it?" a voice from within the apartment called.

"'Maneki-chan?'" Kiba repeated. "Who's Man-…?"

The younger's eyes had widened once again, this time considerably. Akamaru, beside him, made a confused noise in the back of his throat.

"What?" Kankuro asked, bored, looking over his shoulder at his roommate.

"…Is… that cat… smoking?" Kiba stuttered.

His eyes had found a green and white patched cat balanced perfectly on its hind legs, a cigarette held somehow in its paw; the cat stared cockily up at the Inuzuka with bright yellow eyes, inhaling on the white stick and exhaling a cloud slowly, never breaking eye contact. The hairs on the back of Kiba's neck stood on end.

"Hm…? Yeah. That's Kei. Now-"

"But… Tsukiko said her brother was called 'Kei'… why would you name your cat after him _and_ teach it how to smo-?"

"I _am_ Tsuki's brother. Jesus, dogs are slow…" the _cat_ muttered.

Kiba fell silent.

"Great," Kankuro muttered, shaking his head. "You've created a story that needs to be told – _now_ I have to invite him in. _Thank you so much, _Kei-chan!"

"I bathe in your sarcasm happily, Maneki-chan," Kei, the cat, said with a smile. "C'mon in, dog-breath. A friend of Tsuki's is a friend of mine."

"This isn't your apartment." Kankuro's tone was pure death.

"I'm your roommate!" Kei protested as he put his cigarette out, frowning and crossing his… paws.

"Do you pay rent?"

"…No."

"Bills?"

"…No."

"Contribute to food?"

"…No."

"And who buys your catnip?"

"…You. But that's out of the goodness of your heart!"

The puppeteer snorted. "Right…" He opened the door wider, a silent invitation to Kiba, who took it quickly lest the invitation be withdrawn. Kankuro glanced at the back of the shinobi and sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that morning. "Damn, I need coffee."

"Er…" the cat mumbled sheepishly.

"You better not have drunk all the coffee. You shouldn't even be drinking it! You know what the vet said."

"Ugh, don't mention that horrible cretin again!" Kei shuddered, his patchwork fur rippling. "He stuck fingers where no fingers should be stuck!"

"You didn't think so when you were human…" Kankuro replied as he disappeared into the kitchen.

"Yeah, well, that's different. As a human, it's sexual and pleasurable. Unless that damned fool's into bestiality, it wasn't sexual, and therefore wasn't nice at all." Kei leapt up onto the dead-looking sofa and stared Kiba in the eye. "You gunna stand there all day? Park your ass down here and I'll explain all."

"I'm being told to sit down… by a talking, smoking cat…"

"Strange world, isn't it?"

* * *

"Where's my coffee, you bastard?"

There was no reply from Kankuro. In fact, there hadn't been a sound from Kankuro since he had gone into the kitchen – and that was ten or so minutes ago.

That wasn't wasted time, though. In those ten minutes Kiba had learnt a few things. Things like… how Kankuro did actually like cats (his whole apartment being near-flooded with felines kind of alluded to that), or that he smoked (the sofa stunk of it… or was that just Kei?), or how despite coming from the richest family in Suna he lived in quite possibly the sparsest of living quarters, _or_ how he came to own Kei…

The talking, chain-smoking, coffee-addicted, gay cat, _Kei_.

My God, that's the weirdest shit ever, Kiba thought. Only Kankuro could draw _those _types of characters in…

It seemed that Kei actually _was _a human after all; he had to be, if he was Tsukiko's twin brother, to be honest. But, Kei explained, that in the womb, Tsukiko had stolen all the logical brain cells, as just over four years ago, Kei managed to piss an old woman off, who coincidentally knew quite some advance, _old_ jutsus and therefore turned him into a cat. She then popped her clogs some time after, but still the jutsu stayed. Tough cheese.

So, he was stuck as a cat. Luckily, he could speak and had been fortunately granted opposable thumbs, but with becoming a feline came certain downfalls; like the visits to the vet, the need to keep personal hygiene via the tongue, the hairballs…

Not only _that_, but the human-turned-cat was positively infatuated with Kankuro.

No, _that's_ some weird shit, Kiba added.

"You're not supposed to have coffee, aren't you?" the dog-nin asked.

"Who are ya, my mother? Shut your yapper, bitch-face," the cat snapped.

"Speak to him like that again, and I'll lock you out for a week. _Without_ catnip." They both turned to regard Kankuro, who was stood, leaning against the doorframe with a cocked eyebrow and two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands. "As much as I hate to admit this, he's a guest."

"Where were you?" Kei seemed to ignore Kankuro's threat. "Growing the coffee beans yourself?"

And so, Kankuro ignored Kei and walked calmly into the living space, stepping effortlessly around and over cats in his way. The talking cat held out his paws expectantly, but the puppeteer handed one of the mugs to Kiba, who accepted the coffee with surprise.

"Thanks," he mumbled. He watched as Kankuro sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the small couch with slight unease. "Do you-?"

He was about to offer his seat.

"Guest," was all the elder said, before he sipped the black liquid in his mug.

Kei snorted. "And I thought _I_ was a pussy…" The cat slipped off the couch gracefully and, with a low purr rumbling in his throat, swayed up to Kankuro on all fours; he nuzzled the puppeteer's side and crawled onto his lap, slipping onto his back to bare his stomach and clawed at the bottom of Kankuro's coffee. "C'mon, Maneki Neko-_chan_…"

"If I give you the coffee, will you fuck off?"

"Only to the kitchen…"

The brunet wordlessly handed his mug to Kei as soon as the cat had wriggled upright; the moment the coffee was securely in his paws, Kei was gone.

Kankuro sighed.

"Too soft," Kiba commented, smirking. "Where has the old Kankuro gone?"

"Don't know. Guess he died."

"Like… when you stopped being a ninja?"

"Probably…"

Kiba frowned. "You say it so… casually!"

"For me, it is," Kankuro replied airily, scratching a tabby behind its cheekbone. "If someone like Naruto quit being a shinobi, _that_ wouldn't be so casual. Or even someone like you – you're built and designed to be a nin – it's in your very genes to be a shinobi. Me…?" Kankuro shrugged.

"No, what?"

"…I was _made_ to be a shinobi in a different way. Father had his plans. I was merely a pawn, a back-up if – gods forbid – Gaara should fail. Now that I'm not needed- don't give me that fuckin' look, Inuzuka." He huffed. "The world is – touch wood – in peace." He grabbed a random puppet joint on the floor, which alerted several kittens to it; they pounced on the puppet part without mercy. "The Uchiha is safely back in Konoha, Orochimaru's long gone, Akatsuki is dead and the only trouble we have are caused by tiny rebel groups and they're easily dispatched. _I'm not needed_. I am, however, needed – and wanted – at Kame-za."

The dog-nin nodded slowly.

"Listen, Kiba." The younger's gaze shot to the puppeteer sharply – Kankuro had _never_ called him by his first name. "…I'm okay with you being here, alright? It's just when you appear out of nowhere, nosing around in my business and trying to change my life _for the better_, as you call it, that I get…"

"Pissy," Kiba filled in. "I guess I can understand."

"It's like if someone came up to you and told you to give up Akamaru."

The dog-nin made a face.

"Precisely…"

"I guess I _was _a bit rash… Temari obviously doesn't know the full story, but… yeah…"

They fell into a void of silence.

Kiba suddenly snickered a little. "You know… I kinda didn't recognise you when you opened the door. I mean, it wasn't until yesterday that I found out your hair colour and style, and this morning, you answer the door with no… theatre paint, or whatever you call it, _and_ more than half-naked. I'd say, ninety per-cent naked."

Kankuro looked down at his black boxers and nodded slowly, smirking.

"I can see the dilemma. If you want, I can go get… what do you kids call it? _Decent_?"

"Hey, don't call me a kid!" The dog-nin huffed indignantly. "And you don't have to go put clothes on. It's your home. Do what _you_ want."

"Okay then."

The elder then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and began to shimmy them down his hips.

"Woah, okay, keep your clothes on!" Kiba yelled, laughing and trying to blot out the image of nicely-defined hips and that trail of dark hair leading to… _ahem_, out of his head. "I didn't mean it like that…"

"But you said I could do what I want, as it's my home."

"Yeah, _within reason!_" Kiba had to admit that the sight of Kankuro chuckling was a nice one; not that the ex-Suna nin wasn't nice-looking to begin with. "Now, this ain't so bad."

"What, me _ninety per-cent_ naked?"

"Ugh, not what I meant! This – us – laughing. Just yesterday, you were telling me to fuck off back home, and now I'm sat on your couch, chatting to you as if we've been buddies for years. Bet you're glad I _didn't_ fuck off, eh?"

"Slightly," Kankuro replied, somewhat cheekily. "As I said, just as long as you don't try and rule my life, I'm okay with you being here."

"I'm not giving up on trying to get you back with your siblings at least, though."

"Wouldn't have expected less of you, Mutt."

Kiba watched idly as the elder scratched his tousled, bed-ruffled hair, silence settling over them. His attention grew, however, when Kankuro made a face, staring at his hand strangely, flexing his fingers. Was it happening? Was Kankuro losing his sense of touch in his hands like Iwao feared? Kiba hoped not. He really hoped not.

"Something wrong?" the Konoha shinobi asked innocently.

The elder jerked out of his daze. "Hm? No… I just slept funny on my arm, so it's still a little… dead."

Two words sprung to the Inuzuka's mind:

'Oh' and 'Fuck'.

* * *

"Puppetry is a highly effective and dynamically creative means of exploring the richness of interpersonal communication. By its very nature, puppetry concentrates on the puppet rather than the puppeteer. This provides a safety zone for the puppeteer and allows for exploration of unlimited themes through a safe and non-threatening environment for communication…"

To be quite frank, Kiba didn't quite understand that. Kankuro had said it to him before he had left for his rehearsal at Kame-za, when they had been talking about… things; things like Konoha and Suna's current state (non-politically, of course), and the troubles of having older sisters and (as stated before) Kankuro's love of puppetry. They had spent over four hours ("_Was it four hours? Felt like less…"_) talking like, well, 'old buddies' as Kiba had put it. Honestly, he felt a little bad for the puppeteer; suddenly, someone from his past arrives and starts trying to preach like his older sister, who thinks that Kankuro is being kidnapped and brainwashed by his theatre, when it turns out that the middle Sabaku just… wants to act and _be a theatre brat_.

Thinking about it, the dog-nin would gladly return to Konoha and tell Temari that Kankuro was quite happy on his own, at the Kame-za – and even risking her wrath – if it wasn't for Iwao.

"_I just slept funny on my arm, so it's still a little… dead."_

Those words spun around his mind. It's happening, Kiba thought, is it too late?

He sighed heavily, flopping back on the couch, inadvertently and involuntarily sending out a silent invitation to a few cats that they were welcome to sleep on him. He ignored them, rubbing his eyes tiredly, despite the caffeine in his system.

That statement stuck out in his mind… why? The look in Kankuro's eyes when he had said that final speech about puppetry – it was like… a question? An unconscious plea? The younger couldn't tell. Cats were confusing, and Kankuro was one cat-like bastard.

So, he decided to think logically about it. He had to, if he was going to help the Suna male _and_ stay on good terms with him, he was going to have to be strategic. Before, his plan was simply to knock some sense into him and drag his sorry ass straight back to Temari, but that had been before he realised that this was _actually_ serious, and not Kankuro being some wooden assed prick.

Kankuro's whole being was at stake, and the bastard didn't even know it. Or he was lying to himself about it.

"_Puppetry explores the richness of interpersonal communication_" or something to that degree, Kiba recalled, scowling at the flaky ceiling. He wasn't quite sure what _interpersonal_ meant, but he supposed it was something to do with -…

"'Hoy, whatcha thinkin' of?"

Kiba nearly dislodged all the cats that had settled on top of him in shock, causing them to dig their claws into his skin. He hissed at them, earning a multitude of hisses back.

"Alright, ladies, calm down," Kei muttered as he walked in, cigarette between his lips. He looked at Kiba with questioning yellow eyes. "So, what's causin' those frowns?"

"Just stuff," the dog-nin replied, settling back down.

"Maneki-chan?"

"If you mean Kankuro, then yes."

Kei rolled his eyes. "Kankuro _is_ Maneki-chan. I call him that, 'cause it's short for Maneki Neko."

"The _welcoming cat_?"

"Mm hm. Well, he _is _quite welcoming, as you can see." Kei gestured to all the cats around them. "Plus, Tsuki already got dibs on 'Kanky'."

"I see… I think…"

The cat strode over to the couch and hopped onto it, shooing another feline off so he could sit on his chest.

"So, what's got you so confused about him?"

Kiba sighed. "Just something he said before he left and… other things."

"Like…?"

"He…" The nin huffed. "He said something that I'm thinking is cryptic. I don't know if it's a Freudian slip or…"

"What did he say?"

"I can't remember it word for word, but… it was something about puppetry being a _safety zone for the puppeteer_ and something about _interpersonal communication_… and how in puppetry, it's all about the puppet and not the puppeteer."

"What's so cryptic about that?" Kei asked around his cigarette, arching a furry eyebrow. "He's just explaining how he views puppeteering. And to be honest, it _is_ all about the puppet, especially in the theatre. Even when the puppeteer's on stage, the puppet is the centre of attention; it's what tells the story to the audience. People like Kankuro only direct the puppet to tell the story, and show it how to move and react. The puppeteer's not supposed to be anything, not supposed to feel anything."

Kiba's eyes widened as something clicked. "Not… supposed to feel anything?"

"Kankuro explained it to me once. He said that when he's… fighting with Karasu and the others or when he's doing Bunraku, he feels like he becomes one with his puppets, therefore, if he feels anything, he's not right, or in the zone or whatever you want to call it. He practises it a lot…"

The brunet sat up suddenly, sending all the cats to the floor in a comical heap. It really did click. Kankuro didn't notice his lack of touch because he was almost always connected to a puppet to practise _getting into the zone_ (which then caused his lack of touch). Or maybe Kankuro _did_ know… he did say he was passionate about the theatre, and if he wasn't a nin anymore, then the theatre was all that mattered, and if the theatre was all that mattered, then all Kankuro had was being a puppeteer, and if being a good puppeteer meant giving up his ability to feel, then-!

"Ouch, my head hurts…" the Inuzuka whined, scratching his scalp.

"_Your_ head hurts? What about mine, you fuckin'…!" Kei snapped from the floor, hissing somewhat.

"I don't care, at least you can feel pain!"

With that said (or rather, shouted…), Kiba leapt up from the couch and beckoned Akamaru, rushing out the door.

Kei blinked. "I don't understand dogs sometimes…"

* * *

"_Step away from me, pathetic spectre! I do not wish to be near your depressive aura any longer!"_

"_But it is __**you**__ who makes my aura shine brighter than any star! You cannot leave me!"_

"_You heard the woman. She does not wish to be around the ethereal shell of a man any longer…"_

"_One day you shall be like me! Mark my words. Even a fierce warrior like you shall be swamped by fear, and even the most beautiful woman in the world shall doubt herself… this is my oath."_

There was silence.

"Good, good, that was good…" Shin-sensei murmured, smiling.

The three actors on stage visibly relaxed, each sighing heavily, yet standing perfectly still on stage.

Iwao was the first to speak. "Damnit, I hate being the ghost…"

"It's an important part, Iwao," Tsukiko soothed. "Without the ghost-!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you've said before. But one day, _I_ shall be like _you_, Kankuro – _I_ shall be the fierce warrior! Mark my words!"

"That'll be the day," the brunet replied with a smirk.

"Break!" someone nearby called.

"Aah, yeah! Great, I'm starvin'!" Iwao smacked his lips, before grimacing. "This make-up may be made from rice, but it don't taste like it."

"Hm…" Kankuro mused as he walked away. "I heard it has lead in it."

Laughter boomed behind him as Tsukiko fell into giggles at Iwao's horrified stare. He smirked silently to himself as he picked up a wet towel offered to him by a theatre attendant and wiped the white and red stage make-up off, sighing at the deliciously cool air that hit his newly-bared skin and near-ripping the long black wig and cap off his head, shaking his hair out.

"'Hoy, Maneki-chan!"

His good mood fell instantly. "Kei."

The cat scampered up to him, cigarette perched between his fangs. "'Hoy. Listen, I lost the dog. Don't kill me."

"…Why would I kill you? He has his own free will. He probably went off exploring or digging holes or whatever."

"Actually…" Kei winced. "We were talking about you and then suddenly, he scarpers! Last thing he said – _after_ throwing me on the floor – was _at least I could feel pain_! The strange nerve."

Kankuro, beneath the thin layer of white paint left on his skin, paled, green eyes widening. The other two seemed to notice this, as they wandered over, expressions filled with curiosity and worry. The brunet said nothing, just stared out at nothing and everything, mind ticking over thoughts; one particular thought kept popping up:

_What is that damn mutt doing?_

"Apologise to Shin-sensei and the troupe," Kankuro suddenly said; it was unclear whether he was talking to Kei or Tsukiko or Iwao.

"What? Why? Where're you going?" the only female asked.

"I've got some bones to pick with a certain mutt…"

It all clicked into place in Iwao's mind as he watched the elder puppeteer stride out of the theatre.

Good luck, Kiba-kun, he wished, silently, in his mind.

* * *

Kankuro searched all over town, but couldn't find hide nor hair of the dog-nin.

Kiba wasn't at his apartment, wasn't at the Kage's palace, wasn't at the market… he searched down alleys– in fact, he searched practically everywhere, and as the sun set, he gave up. After final scout around the palace, he found out from a guard that Kiba had been there briefly to collect his belongings as well as a messenger bird, but hadn't been seen since midday.

He's gone home, Kankuro decided, as he jutsu'd back to his apartment.

Boy, how he was wrong.

As he opened the door, he was met with the sight of Kei sleeping on top of a snoozing white dog, which was also surrounded by dozing cats who were snuggled into his warm fur in various manners. Kankuro grit his teeth, shutting the door. He was about to call out for the dog-nin, when something _else_ caught his eye.

His couch. Or rather, _the lack of his couch_.

Oh, he had a sofa, but it wasn't his. It was new. Plain cream, but new. The air smelt fresher too. The wooden floors were clean and the walls looked scrubbed. Puppet parts were tidied into various boxes in the corner and… plants?

Kankuro wandered curiously into the kitchen, to see that it was just as clean as his main room. There were no stained coffee cups lying around, all the cat bowls that _weren't_ in use were sparkling clean and piled on the counter, which in turn looked like brand new marble. He turned quickly and strode into his bedroom. Yes, that too was different. Well, _cleaner_. Karasu was propped up against the wall, and Kiba…

The dog-nin was curled up on his new-looking bed, asleep. The elder rubbed his eyes, sighing and sliding down the wall.

"What the hell are you doing, mutt?" he mumbled to the air. Idly, he rubbed the stubble on his jaw, eyes gazing out the dark window at the distant lights of nearby apartments and houses. "Damnit…"

There was a groan as Kiba came round; the younger nuzzled the white, puffy covers. "Mn? Mn…" Darkest brown eyes opened and blearily locked onto Kankuro. "Hello K'nkuro…" he mumbled, smiling lazily and stretching, before he tensed, obviously getting a hold of himself and sitting bold upright as if that Uchiha had shoved a wave of chidori up his ass. "Aha, h-hey, Kankuro! How are you? Sorry, guess I was a bit tired…"

"Oh yeah," Kankuro said pleasantly. The Konoha nin couldn't help but shrink back – that tone of voice was _really_ eerie… "I guess it's understandable being tired… after rea-fucking-ranging my whole shitting apartment! What the hell, Inuzuka?"

"It wasn't _just_ me, alright?" Kiba protested. "Tsukiko and Iwao and Kei helped! And all your cats, as freaky as that was. We just… tidied a bit."

"You literally whitewashed my apartment and replaced everything _apart_ from my puppets and scrolls, I bet."

"So? It looked shit."

"Do you live here?"

"Kei does."

Kankuro grinded his teeth. "Let's not get into that argument again, okay?" Green eyes stayed narrowed. "I thought you'd gone home."

"Oh, were you gonna miss me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, dog-breath. So, mind telling me yourself what you and Kei were talking about?"

Kiba blinked. "Uhm…?"

"_At least you can feel pain_… so, Inuzuka, what did you mean by that?"

"You would know… ah… okay," the dog-nin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Seems we're not going to beat around the bush…" He stood and moved in front of Kankuro, staring down at the elder for a moment or two, before raising a leg and placing his foot on the other's shoulder, leaning in. Kankuro scowled and grabbed Kiba's ankle. "Oh, can you feel that? And I don't mean in your shoulder."

The Suna male scowled deeper. "I don't know what you mean."

"I thought we weren't beating around the bush."

Kankuro said nothing.

"So tell me, what does my ankle feel like?"

Still, he said nothing.

"Talk to me, Kankuro."

"It's not your business."

"I'm making it my business. So tell me. Or…" He suddenly straddled the puppeteer's hips and grabbed his hand, placing it between his own two and applying pressure. "How warm is my skin?" When the other _still _didn't reply, Kiba let out a hiss of frustration. "Damnit, Kankuro! …Can you feel _this?_" Kiba squeezed the puppeteer's hand, grinding the bones. "Or _this_?"

He promptly stuck one of Kankuro's fingers in his mouth, sucking once before clamping his sharp teeth down on the digit. Blood seeped into his mouth, filling his senses with a coppery, yet sweet taste, but he ignored it, sharp eyes always locked with Kankuro's blank green orbs. Their gazes battled for what felt like eternity. He let the finger slip from his mouth, however, when those forest eyes closed wearily.

He suddenly felt his anger and frustration flood from his very bones. He was now feeling incredibly… sad? No, he wasn't sad, per se… he was upset for Kankuro's sake – pity, he supposed – but there was another part of him that was wounded simply _because_ of the elder's predicament.

"Here's what we're gunna do," he murmured. Idly, he licked his lips, tasting that strange blood which didn't taste all that normal. "We're gonna go to Konoha. Tsunade can help – I sent her a message this morning. And Temari and Gaara are still-"

"They can't know," Kankuro cut it, eyes snapping open. "They can't know. Don't tell them."

Kiba noted absent-mindedly that the elder was squeezing his hand in a desperate manner, even though his eyes refused to reveal his emotions.

"Okay, I promise I won't tell them."

* * *

Miles and miles away, the busty Hokage was just standing from her desk when there was a loud '_bang_' on the glass behind her.

Shizune jumped, as Tsunade whirled around, eyes narrowed as she stared out the now-blotched window; there was a bird-shaped smudge as well as a little white patch below it.

"Just a damn bird," the blonde huffed, rolling her eyes at her aid.

"A messenger bird, look!" Shizune pointed at the window, where there was a large falcon flapping its wings desperately to stay airborne. "It's from Suna. It must be urgent, if they're using that kind of bird."

"Open it… working late, _again_," Tsunade murmured, sitting back down and watching as the medic-nin opened the window and offered her arm to the bird of prey. "What does it say?"

Shizune unrolled the scroll. "It's from Inuzuka Kiba… oh my, Tsunade, listen – _Hokage-sama, not much time to write this, but Kankuro needs help. He's too much of a prick to realise-slash-admit it, but I'm working on it. One of the puppeteers at Kame-za told me of a condition that puppeteers can suffer, where they lose sense of touch. It's said to be like overusing the Sharingan. I'm worried_- oh, wait, no. That was crossed out… _I think that Kankuro is losing his touch. I'll try to find out as much as I can here, but I think it's too advanced and unspoken of here, but it's to do with a puppeteer's connection with their puppet. I need-_ no, crossed out again… _he needs your help, Hokage-sama. Just don't tell Kazekage-sama or Temari-san – I don't think Kankuro would want them to know, seeing how…_ uh, scribble… _how secretive he's been. Sorry for the short notice – I only just found out this morning! _Signed, _Inuzuka Kiba."_

There was a brief moment of silence.

"I didn't think it possible for one to lose the feeling of touch," Shizune murmured, rereading the somewhat crumpled letter.

"Could be over-sensitising of nerve endings in the hands…" Tsunade replied, frowning, mind ticking. "We'll deal with it in the morning. Surely they can wait that long?"

* * *

"How did you find out?"

"Iwao."

"Ah… shoulda known…"

Kiba smiled without emotion, a mere quirking of the lips, as his eyes wandered over Kankuro's weary form. The puppeteer had remained where he was – propped up against the wall – whilst Kiba had migrated the perch on the edge of the futon. The atmosphere had turned somewhat taut and tense as they both thought through what had come out, as well as what they could possibly do in future.

Kankuro, however, refused to meet the younger's eye.

The dog-nin supposed it was to do with pride. Damn Suna-nin. Damn theatre-types. Damn Kankuro.

* * *

Demi: Yeah... i'm really not too sure about this story - reassurance, please? -puppypout-


	5. Props at the Ready

_Chapter no. :_ 5  
_Chapter title: _Props at the Ready  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Beta'ed by Ryukai MJ**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto , it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ 17  
_Word count upon update: _15,590  
_Notes: _Thank you for all the nice comments and reassurances :) it really boosted me (and reminded me i had to update lol).  
Edit: Just got this beta-ed :3

* * *

Kankuro had been hesitant to go to bed. It hadn't been because Kiba was asleep on the couch just metres away in the main room. It had nothing do with his mind racing through thoughts and fears. It was to do with his _actual_ bed.

It looked like a marshmallow, so soft and cushy, ready to swallow him up.

An irrational fear, he knew, but his old mattress had been in his possession since he could remember, and so had the pillows. So what if they had been hard as rocks? He didn't care. He got a night's sleep on them. There was no need to change them _at all_. He could feel resentment rise up in his throat. He hated this replacement; was this how Uzumaki felt when he found out that the Uchiha had been replaced? No. Really, over a mattress and pillow?

Get over yourself, Kankuro snapped at himself.

"C'mon, 'Neki-chan," a sleepy Kei mumbled, as he wandered into the room and stared at the cushy duvet. "Looks good. Like a marshmallow. Wonder if it-?"

Kei had leapt onto the bed and literally vanished into the covers.

"My gods!" came a muffled yell. The cat poked his head out between the crease in the cushy covers which he had created and disappeared down. "This is so comfy! And that's just the covers! Get your ass on this bed now!"

The puppeteer sighed and begrudgingly crawled onto the bed, shifting under the covers and leaning back against the pillows. He paused and decided that, yes, this was better than his old bed. Not as nostalgic or homely as his old mattress, but it was definitely nicer…

Only, the snoring dog-nin next door would never hear him say it.

--------------------------------------

It was the next day – one or so in the afternoon – when Kiba received a letter from Tsunade, via the large falcon he himself had sent to Konoha.

_Inuzuka Kiba_, it read, _you are instructed to watch over Sabaku no Kankuro until further notice. Find enclosed the mission details. Tsunade-sama and Sakura-san are also personally involved in this mission, and you will receive details from them soon. Good luck. Shizune_.

Kiba raised an eyebrow as he flicked the sheet over to look at the _formal_ mission statement.

"An actual mission, eh?" the dog-nin mumbled, ruffling Akamaru's head as he leant back against the kitchen counter. "Guess Kankuro can't get rid of me… wonder what Iruka-sensei thought of this when he signed the mission file out…" He laughed quietly at the thought. "Hey, Kei? When's Kankuro's rehearsal?"

The cat perked up, ears flicking and cigarette twitching. "Oh, Kame-za don't rehearse today. They gotta have days off, don't they?"

"I suppose," Kiba replied with a shrug. "Is he still asleep?"

"Yup. That bed is a wonder. _I_ slept amazingly. Thank you."

"Not my doing. Tsukiko bought everything. Iwao and I got lumped with cleaning."

"I did too!" Kei protested, scowling.

"But all you did was boss us about whilst you smoked ten cigarettes!"

"Twenty."

"Whatever."

"So why'd ya do it?" Kei asked casually. "I mean, you're not even in the band of 'friends' with Kankuro. Why go through the trouble of revamping his apartment if you haven't ever had a proper conversation and have only talked when fighting in battles?"

Kiba shrugged. "I wanted to help. Besides, it was all Tsukiko's idea. She's been wanting to do it for years and I… felt that it was the least I could do – it was also a starting point. And I'm glad it's been done." Kiba waved the mission statement. "It's now my mission to watch over Kankuro, so that means I'll be living here, and I'm not living in filth."

"You're… living here?" Kei suddenly yowled. "Ugh, oh gods! I'm getting sick of the stench of dog!"

"And I'm getting sick of the stench of _cat_. And cat _food_. Ugh, that shit don't half stink."

"One thing we can both agree on…"

--------------------------

Kankuro awoke slowly from a deep slumber to hear soft bickering coming from _somewhere_ in his apartment, as well as the weight of lots of cats on top of and around him. _That_ he didn't mind. It was the bickering.

But for some reason – he blamed it on the sleep – he couldn't find it in himself to be so aggravated about it.

He shifted, alerting the felines around him of his consciousness. Upon reflex, they shied away to resume their own sleeping; some of the cats got up with him, padding into the kitchen to find their food in the multitude of bowls. Kankuro groaned as he sat up, waiting to feel the urge to pop his bones, but there was only the small itch to crack his fingers; he tried to ignore the lack of feeling there.

Wandering from his bedroom, he idly observed his main room. It looked so strange, so alien to him in the bright light from the cleaned window and lighter (cleaner) colours of his sparse furniture.

"Morning," Kiba called from the kitchen. The puppeteer turned his head to lock eyes with him. "Like walking around in near-to-nothing?"

Kankuro shrugged, walking into the other room. "My home, my rules. Damnit, what time is it?"

"Uh… two. In the afternoon. Nice sleep?"

"I didn't get to sleep until nearly twilight."

"Oh," the dog-nin mumbled, feeling suddenly deflated. "Why's that?"

All the puppeteer did was shrug as he poured his coffee from the pot; his eyes then caught sight of a familiar-looking piece of paper. He snatched it up from the counter, scowling.

"I'm your mission, now, eh?" Kankuro muttered, eying the Hokage's stamp.

"Not my decision – Hokage-sama's orders. Seems she thinks this is important _too_."

"Just don't get in my way."

"Don't worry, I won't. Unless Hokage-sama says so."

"Lap-dog."

"_Puppet_."

Kankuro's lips quirked. "Touché…"

"So, what _are_ your plans for today?" Kiba asked. "So I can work myself around them."

"Usually, I'm up at dawn and working out. But your damn bed ruined that plan."

"Aha, so you admit it – that bed is better than your old one."

"Fuck you, Inuzuka," Kankuro mumbled as he strode out of the kitchen.

The younger laughed loudly, wishing dearly he could see the elder's expression; he would put a month's pay on Kankuro being a step away from pouting. A pouty-scowl sort of thing. Yeah, that sounded like the ex-Suna nin.

"And what would you do after this work out?"

"Work on my puppets."

Now Kiba was intrigued. "Really? Can I watch?"

"Hn?"

Kankuro turned to regard the dog-nin with surprise. No one had ever showed interest in his puppets, apart from those at the Kame-za, and that was expected and understandable. Baki had once asked about his puppets, but the man had never _really_ questioned him about it, and he would _never_ ask to watch him work on them. But Temari and Gaara had never stuck around when he started to fiddle with or replace joints and limbs or replenished the poison and weapons.

"What?" Kiba asked when the other had been staring at him intently.

"…Are you sure? It can be very boring. Well, it probably _will_ be very boring for you."

The dog-nin shrugged. "I'm interested. If I get bored, I'll fuck off out your way."

Kankuro, still, paused, eying Kiba dubiously.

"And I won't get in your way, I promise."

"Fine… fine, fine, whatever." Kankuro walked into his bedroom to get Karasu. "Come with me."

------------------------------------------

Kiba hadn't expected to be taken _out_ of the apartment. He had thought that Kankuro would work on his puppets in his home…

But then again, he hadn't found any scrolls or tools when he had cleaned up the flat.

So, he was lead down the long corridor, past various doors to other homes, before they stopped in front of a metal door right at the end of the hall. With his senses, he could smell the paint, oil and various chemicals already. He was glad he had left Akamaru in Kankuro's apartment – the dog would have hated this mixed aroma, as _his_ senses were stronger than his master's.

The door opened when Kankuro placed his hand on the metal. Kiba saw a slight flash of blue around his fingers – chakra strings – but wasn't allowed any time to dwell on it, as he was ushered down the dark stairs; luckily, his eyes adapted quickly to the gloom, so he managed to keep his footing.

"Ever thought of investing in lighting?" Kiba asked, smirking.

"Nope."

As they descended the stairs, they fell into silence, Kiba simply because of his curiosity and Kankuro… because he was Kankuro. Kiba grinned at a sudden thought: what was Kankuro like as a kid? Was he the quiet, brooding type, or the bratty, sarcastic unpleasant child, or was he the outgoing, overly-dramatic kid? Kiba couldn't imagine Kankuro as the latter type – more of the second option and a little of the first-

"Woah!"

There was a section of a step missing and Kiba wasn't paying attention. He stumbled, but a hand grabbed his upper arm, holding him steady.

Kiba turned to look at Kankuro, trying to ignore the coldness of the hand keeping him steady. "'The fuck?"

"I thought ninja were supposed to have good footing," the puppeteer drawled with a smirk.

"Bastard, there's a step missing – how the fuck was I supposed to see that?"

"By eyesight? You've done plenty of night-missions, _and_ you're an Inuzuka. Two and two don't equal three, Mutt."

"Okay, okay, I suck – _now_ will you let go of my arm?"

The elder released Kiba and passed him on the stairs, disappearing round the curve of the staircase quickly; the dog-nin followed at a more leisurely speed, now cautious of the broken steps. But, nonetheless, he soon stepped down onto level ground, finding himself in a dimly lit room, surrounded by strange contraptions and tools that were hung on the wall or spread across scruffy tables. He took a moment to take in the sight of the messy room, before his eyes settled on Kankuro. The puppeteer was stood next to a bright angle-poise lamp as he pulled Karasu from his back and settled the puppet on a nearby chair carefully, as if he was handling a small (or rather, quite large) child; he then grabbed a scroll from a shabby wardrobe and spread it across a large table, and, after making the appropriate hand-signs, a plume of smoke enshrouded the table and Kankuro.

As the smoke started to dissipate, Kiba stepped forward hesitantly, but suddenly wished he hadn't as he found himself face to face with Sanshouou, centimetres from its large, sharp teeth.

Kankuro laughed at Kiba's expression, a deep rich chuckle that settled nicely in the Inuzuka's mind. "Didn't know you were scared of my puppets, let alone Sanshouou."

"Don't try the line, '_He's harmless_'," Kiba muttered, refusing to pout as he stepped away and around the salamander.

"I wouldn't. Sanshouou is far from harmless. But compared to Karasu and Kuroari, he's nothing in terms of harm. He's a defensive puppet. Well…"

"'_Well_' what?"

"Heh, last time and only time I've used Sanshouou in battle was against Sasori, and look how well he did…"

"Yeah, but I heard that Sasori built your puppets originally, so he knew every weakness."

Kankuro glanced back at Kiba. "Where did you hear that?"

"I heard it from Hinata, who heard it from Ino, who heard it from Shikamaru, who heard from Temari."

"…Damn woman," the puppeteer muttered, looking to a cluttered desk and searching for a particular tool. "Make yourself comfortable, Mutt. It's gonna be a long day."

The dog-nin perched on a nearby stool and leant back, crossing his arms over his chest and watching with keen eyes as Kankuro fiddled with the hinges of the salamander's back. With a great feat of strength, he lifted the back off and carried it to a nearby table.

"How heavy is that thing?" the younger asked, after closing his mouth that had popped open from shock; he tried to forget the way the elder's muscles had bunched up and flexed as they were strained to their limits. "How could you just… lift that clean off?"

"I-"

"And don't say it was easy."

Kankuro chuckled again. "It wasn't. But you get used to it after a while. I wouldn't be able to carry Sanshouou like I did Karasu at first; thank the gods for scrolls."

"Karasu's fucking heavy. It took me, Iwao and Akamaru to carry it to your room, so we could clean the kitchen. Which reminds me – why the fuck was it in one of the cupboards? That scared the crap out of me when I opened the door, expecting to see cups or whatever and finding a… smiling three-eyed, multi-armed doll staring at me!"

"He was in there to keep Kei from the coffee. Sometimes I hide his catnip in there. Kei can't lift Karasu-"

"_I_ couldn't lift Karasu."

"Hah."

"…What?"

"Nothing."

Kiba scowled at the smirk that spread the elder's lips. "You trying to say I'm weak?"

"Compared to me, you are."

"Well, I know that," Kiba snapped. "But your tone was implying that I'm totally weak. I'm not. I've beaten plenty of strong people. And I nearly beat Sakon and Ukon."

"The keyword being '_nearly'_," the Suna male commented, still with the smirk.

"You're such a puppet-dick."

Kankuro didn't reply. He simply leant in close to Sanshouou and examined the sides of the salamander; upon reflex, one of his eyes closed in concentration, and a scowl embedded itself in his forehead. Kiba watched with curiosity as the ex-nin worked on his puppet with startling accuracy and with a precise, yet delicate touch; he sanded down certain edges, reshaped parts of the body with a sharp blade, and tightened joints and hinges, testing the puppet every so often to make sure it worked perfectly and efficiently, yet not once did he cut himself with the sharp tools, even as he twirled them artisticallyin his hands..

Silence filled the room, and although Kiba wanted to break it, he was worried that it would put the elder off and anger him; if he was to keep a firm eye on him, like Tsunade had asked him to, then he had to stay on good terms with him, at least…

"Bored yet?"

Kiba twitched with shock. "Ehm, no. I never realised how much work went into them, to be honest… I have a question, though."

"Shoot."

"Why do you close one eye sometimes?"

"I'm partially-blind in one eye. When I close it, I see clearer. Depth-perception and all that."

The dog-nin gaped with surprise. "You… you're blind in one eye?"

"_Partially_. Gaara did it. Buried me in sand, to try and kill me, and sand got into my eye, damaging it. If Temari hadn't have been there, I _would_ have died, but… got out of it with a busted eye." Kankuro shrugged. "They just think I do it unconsciously because of that _incident –_ memories and shit; they don't know it actually damaged my sight."

"So they don't know about this loss of sensation in your hands, and they don't know about the loss of sight in one eye… you're just a mess, aren't you?"

"…Some might say, yes."

"Well…" Kiba sighed, shaking his head. "Thank the gods I'm here to help, eh?"

Kankuro looked him dead in the eye and quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah… great."

* * *

Demi: I have nothing to say, cos i don't know _what_ to say cos my brain is _fried_. UGH...


	6. Improvisation Interlude

_Chapter no. :_ 6  
_Chapter title: _Improvisation Interlude  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Beta'ed by Ryukai MJ**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto , it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ 25  
_Word count upon update: _18,120  
_Notes: _Woah, long time, no see... sorry this took so long, guys - I'm still so unsure about this story :S

* * *

It was nearing twilight when Kiba emerged into the fresh air, on another mission – to get food.

He'd left Kankuro in his basement workshop with the excuse of his stomach rumbling and the fact that there was absolutely no decent food in the apartment. So, with an energetic Akamaru by his side, he made his way towards the marketplace; he hoped it wasn't going to be the same as the first time he'd been into the marketplace, all that screaming and grabbing…

But this wasn't so, he found out, when he entered the market; it wasn't even remotely noisy. People passed in and out of stalls, and greeted others with smiles; no one rushed about, shoving items into his face and grabbing him and-

"'Hoy, Kiba-kun!" someone shouted.

He looked over to see Tsukiko and Iwao waving at him from a nearby stall. He waved back and made his way over as Iwao paid for their purchases of bread.

"What're you doing here?" Iwao asked.

"Getting food. Kankuro has crap-all."

Tsukiko laughed, adjusting the basket on her arm. "Sounds like Kanky alright. But he sent you out here, all on your own? How mean."

"No, no, I came willingly," the dog-nin replied with a laugh. "He was working on Sanshouou, so I decided to make myself a little bit useful."

"'E give you money?"

"Of course he did – he's not _that_ much of an asshole."

"Oh, you'd be surprised…" Tsukiko muttered.

"How are things going with it?" Iwao asked. "Have you even talked to him about… that stuff?"

Kiba nodded solemnly. "He's… suffering with it, yeah. But I sent a message to Hokage-sama, and she's working on possibilities for causes and solutions."

"Shit." Iwao rubbed his temple with frustration as Tsukiko looked on with utter confusion. "How'd-?"

"Forced him into a corner, literally and figuratively," Kiba explained. "His hands were so cold... _And_, found out this afternoon – did you know he's nearly seventy per-cent blind in one eye?"

"The one he sometimes closes? I had a feeling, but I didn't know it was that bad," Tsukiko said. "What's all this about hands?"

"I'll explain later, Tsuki-chan. Could you do me a favour?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"Could you do Kankuro and Kiba's shopping, and I'll meet you back at your flat? Please? I really need to talk to Kiba. I'll explain to you later, seriously, but this is important. I'll love you forever."

"You're a cunt, do you know that?"

"Aah yeah, totally. Now, will you do it?"

"…Fine, fine, _fine_! Gimme your lists and money, bitch-faces." She snatched both items off Iwao and Kiba**,** and marched off in a huff.

"Iwao?"

"Aah, yeah?"

"Are you and Tsukiko dating?"

"Am I dead?"

Kiba glanced at the actor. "No…"

"There's your answer."

* * *

Back at the apartment, a freshly-napped Kei stumbled out of the bedroom, yawning and yearning for a smoke. And some food… yeah, food… Mm, half-naked, sweaty Kankuro…

"'Hoy, 'Neki-chan, how long has Kiba been gone?"

"Four hours, near as damnit," Kankuro grunted, as he continued to do press-ups in the middle of the main room. "If he's been kidnapped, I'm not rescuing him."

"Ugh… I want food!"

"You're a cat – go catch a mouse or something."

Kei huffed, crossing his arms, watching as Kankuro stood up and popped his back; the cat licked his lips and a purr rumbled from his throat.

"Cut it out, Kei," the elder muttered, scowling down the cat.

The purring halted immediately. "Just admiring your appearance, you know."

"And you're a cat. It's _wrong_."

"Fuck you, I didn't _choose_ to be," the cat hissed. He turned his back on Kankuro.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm still looking into getting you back, alright?" He nudged Kei with his foot. "Come on, Kei. Don't get moody with me."

"I can get moody if I want."

"No you can't – not with me."

The green cat sighed. "Yeah, I know. I can try, though…" Kei mumbled. "'Hoy, 'Neki-chan? How long are those dogs staying here for?"

"Kiba and Akamaru?" Kankuro shrugged. "However long they need to stay here for… _why_?"

Yellow eyes darkened. "Just sick of dogs. Why's he here anyway?"

It was at that point in time when the door opened and a tired-looking Kiba stumbled in, followed by Akamaru. The dog-nin looked up and grinned at Kankuro, holding up the two bags of food.

"Evening," he greeted, before sniffing the air. "Wow… uhm, you been working out?"

"Can you tell by the streams of sweat on his body?" Kei quipped snidely.

Kankuro nudged Kei again with his foot, earning a hiss from the cat. "What took you so long?"

"Uh… bumped into Tsukiko and Iwao… why, were you worried?"

"Fuck off," the elder snorted. "Was beginning to wonder if I was finally gonna get my apartment back to myself."

Kiba laughed. "Heh, not until Hokage-sama says so… I'm just gonna put these away… yeah."

He passed the puppeteer and entered the kitchen, leaving a stupefied Kankuro stood in the living room. Just as he was about to voice his confusion of Kiba's slight hesitancy, Akamaru trotted up to him and sniffed around his legs and feet; the dog then made a face and ran off into the other room after his master.

"Hey, you bitch!" Kei hissed, running after him. "'Neki-chan smells great! Apologise now!"

Kankuro sighed. "Animals…" He grabbed his shirt from the floor and put it on, before following the rest of the apartment's inhabitants into the kitchen and leaning back on the window ledge, gaze sweeping over the dog-nin as he moved about, putting various items in various cupboards. "What's for food tonight?"

"Udon and some tofu."

"What type?"

"Tanuki."

A snort escaped his throat before he could stop it.

Kiba glanced up at the elder. "What?"

"You _had_ to choose that one…"

"Why, what's wrong with it?" the dog-nin asked. "Don't you like Tanuki Udon?"

"I'm okay with it. It's just… I don't know…" Still he grinned broadly, shaking his head.

"_What_? Tell me what's so _funny_!"

Kankuro sighed. "My sister has always said that Gaara reminds her of a tanuki, with the bruises around his eyes looking like a raccoon-dog's eye markings _and_ his general behaviour."

"Is that it?"

"Do you know the ingredients of Tanuki Udon?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then what's its main ingredient?"

"…Naruto." With that said, Kiba burst into laughter. "Oh gods, _now_ I get it! It's like Gaara and Naruto-"

"_Fried_ Naruto."

"Not crushed? Oh shit – I really didn't mean to say that, it slipped out, I'm-"

Kankuro merely smirked. "Not insulted in the slightest. It's the truth. No point in glossing over it. Gaara killed people by crushing them, yeah…" The Suna male paused. "What do you think it would taste like crushed _and _fried?"

"…Wanna find out?"

"…I'll never be able to look at my brother _or_ Uzumaki the same way again."

"…Me neither, but what the heck."

* * *

Sake from Wind Country, Kiba decided hazily, is much more potent than that in Fire. Or perhaps it was just in Sand. He didn't know. But according to Kankuro, the sake they were drinking was the mildest sold in the markets.

Like fuck it was – Kiba's head was spinning and they had only just finished one bottle. Please note 'they'; _they_ had _shared_. So after drinking _half_ a bottle of this _mild_ sake, Kiba was just toeing the line between 'rather tipsy' and 'oh, _just_ a bit drunk'.

If he wasn't so out of it, he would be feeling somewhat embarrassed. But he just couldn't find himself to care, at that point in time. He was quite content just lying still, staring at the fuzzy ceiling above the couch, head propped up on the armrest and his feet dangling over the other edge…

And over Kankuro too. But he hadn't complained so far, so Kiba – like the embarrassment – left that fact be.

"Your turn," Kankuro muttered, breaking the dog-nin out of his musings.

"Hm…" The leaf nin closed his eyes in thought. "I've never… walked in on my sister having sex."

Kankuro grimaced and tipped his glass of sake into his mouth, swallowing, still with the sour face.

Kiba couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "Fuck, really?"

"Yeah… not pretty. At all. And I'd actually forgotten about that little incident – fuck you."

"What happened?"

The puppeteer shrugged. "Not my fault. Got back from a mission earlier than planned and walked into my room to find them fucking on my bed."

"Oh my gods, seriously?" The alcohol buzzing through his veins made the situation more hilarious. "One of the reasons why you moved out?"

"No, the reason why I almost succeeding in burning my bed. Best fire I've ever made, that was," Kankuro corrected with a lazy smirk. "Surely you noticed those scorch marks on the mattress? Whatever. But I still couldn't look at Temari for weeks and weeks." Green eyes locked with dark brown. "I've never wondered what it would be like to be a woman."

Kiba scowled and knocked his drink back, glaring when Kankuro snickered at him. "Fuck you – it was a momentary thought… that pops up ever so often. You seriously haven't wondered?"

"Nope. Because the very pre-thought of being female makes me feel sick."

"Why?"

"Because, knowing my genes, I'd end up like Temari, and I'd fucking kill myself if that happened – save everyone else the hassle…"

The dog-nin frowned. "…You don't sound too happy with your sister."

"Don't get me wrong, dog-breath," Kankuro replied, head lolling back against the cushions. "I love my sister like any brother should, but that Nara's right to call her the _troublesome woman_. You haven't seen her on the rag yet."

"Do I want to?"

"No. I don't know whether Gaara's scarier than her on her monthlies or not…" The elder sighed. "Your turn," he drawled.

"Uh… I've never… I've never…" He fought to come up with something as he watched Kankuro refill their cups. He finally decided on something when the puppeteer handed his cup back to him and his hand happened to brush against his thigh as he rested his arms on Kiba's legs; he blurted out without a second thought, "I've never had any other type of sex, apart from mission sex."

Kankuro froze. He studied the younger as he drained his glass, eyes narrowing. "Seriously?"

Kiba's cheeks felt warm, but he couldn't tell whether it had anything to do with the alcohol in his blood or sheepishness at the unveiled secret. He shrugged, attempting to be nonchalant, but it failed miserably and just ended up looking like a spoilt, upset child.

"Why not?"

"Why not-not?" Kiba countered, shrugging again. "On a mission, particularly a hard one… pardon the pun… there's all the adrenaline and excitement and your blood is pumped and-"

"I know what it's like," Kankuro cut in. "I've experienced it myself, along with countless other shinobi; no need to explain it."

Kiba sighed. "I don't have sex outside of missions because… I never feel that excitement. I've been close to having sex with other people, but there's just this point in time when I wonder… I feel no passion, no urge to do it with them. It's boring. As Shikamaru would say, it feels troublesome. Tedious. Uninteresting. Besides, girls don't _really_ interest me, and the majority of guys in Konoha are straight."

When Kankuro snorted derisively, Kiba smiled.

"Yeah, I know… they say they're straight, but put 'em on a gruelling mission and they'll fuck anything, males included."

"But you're not just _anything_."

The dog-nin grinned and nudged the elder's cheek with his big toe. "Aw, so sweet, _Kanky-chan_."

"Fuck you, I was trying to be nice, but I guess it's-"

"Muchly appre-ciated, but very scary – I'm used to you being a bastard."

The elder glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You're slurring. Had too much?"

"I'm fine. This is stronger shit than what we have in Konoha, but I'm fine." Kiba nodded.

"If you say so… shall we continue, then?"

"Sure." The dog-nin grinned and raised his glass. "Your turn."

* * *

"I've never had such a hangover…"

Kankuro glanced over at the younger, smirking at the just-visible tangle of brown hair that was somewhat noticeable in the sea of duvet.

"The game's over," the puppeteer said, pulling his shirt over his head and tugging it down. "And the game is the reason why you have this hangover."

"Shu'up," the dog-nin whined from beneath the covers. "…Why am I in your bed?"

"You followed me."

"…Did I?"

"Yes."

"Oh… sorry."

"You're not sorry," Kankuro snorted. He chuckled quietly as he watched the body beneath the duvet curl in tighter, before he left the room.

"I'm not sorry, no…" Kiba mumbled, opening his eyes and coming face to face with a snoozing cat. "Where's 'Maru?"

The cat merely stretched, yawned and started purring. Kiba sighed and rubbed as his throbbing head, flinching when something thudded nearby. Turning over, he watched as Kankuro righted himself, having placed a large glass of water on the floor near the bed, and opened a bottle of painkillers.

"Here," the elder said, holding out his hand.

The dog nin sat up slowly with a groan, and accepted the pills. "Thanks." He swallowed them dry, before chugging down mouthfuls of water. "…More, please?" he asked, handing back the empty glass.

Kankuro grunted, scowling, and walked out with the glass, returning with it full seconds later and placing it back in Kiba's grasp.

"Kei's gunna look after you," the elder said, watching as the dog-nin took a few more gulps, before placing the glass on the floor. "I'll be at the theatre today."

"I am?" the green and white marbled cat asked sleepily.

"Yes."

"Oh… buy me some cigarettes, though…"

"Fine," Kankuro conceded. "Just look after him."

"Y'know, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were worried about me," Kiba mumbled with a tired, but still-cheeky grin.

"You don't know better," the other countered. "It's just a hangover – you're not going to die. I just don't want you to bitch at me as soon as you're capable of talking without wincing."

"Touché…"

* * *

Demi: Now to get the next chapter done... whew...


	7. Change of Scene

_Chapter no. :_ 7  
_Chapter title: _Change of Scene  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Beta'ed by Ryukai MJ**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto , it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ 36  
_Word count upon update: _20,470  
_Notes: _Long time, no see, eh. Thanks for your support, guys

* * *

It was just about an hour after rehearsals officially began when Kankuro walked into the theatre.

All eyes immediately shifted to him and he grunted, brow dipping with a scowl. He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling somewhat self conscious. It was a habit of his; when he felt threatened in anyway, usually from embarrassment from his siblings, he would hunch up a little. Then if provoked, like a tightly coiled spring, he would lash out.

Now wouldn't be a good time or place to do so, but nonetheless, he continued towards Shin-sensei, who was on the stage, walking past a few of the actors and stage-hands, with his spine stooped and green eyes glinting.

"Kankuro-kun," his elder greeted in the usual raspy tone. "I was beginning to get worried."

"I'm sorry, Shin-sensei," Kankuro murmured, bowing.

"May we speak in private?"

The Sabaku nodded.

"Continue, please," the elder puppeteer murmured to the others, before guiding Kankuro backstage; the other actors looked on in confusion. "Now, Kankuro-kun, is something the matter?"

"No, Shin-sensei. The Konoha nin staying with me fell ill during the night and I've been looking after him," Kankuro lied stoically. "I slept later than intended and still had to make sure he was alright."

Shin-sensei nodded slightly. "Ah… is he okay?"

"Stomach bug. He's not used to our climate."

"Good… good… I was worried though… I thought that this Konoha nin had stolen you away, Kankuro-kun. I thought he had stolen my favourite, best puppeteer…" The elder placed a shaky hand on his shoulder, smiling with mysterious eyes. "But it seems you know where your loyalties lie."

"Of course I do. I'm not going to forsake ten years of theatre work for some dog-boy. I just had to make sure he was okay for diplomatic reasons. I'm sorry I was late though – it won't happen again, Shin-sensei."

"I hope not, Kankuro-kun. It would be a shame to lose you, especially now; I'm an old man, and my time is short – _you_ will inherit the theatre. And I will not leave it to someone who puts theatre second best!" Shin's eyes flashed angrily, but – in mere seconds – they reverted back to their docile state.

"Sensei, I _do_ put the theatre first, but… right now-"

"Right now? No, the theatre comes first always, Kankuro-kun."

The Sabaku scratched the back of his head. "I know. But… he's helping me with something right now."

"With what, may I enquire?" His teacher's voice had gone back to its raspy, calm tone.

"I…" Kankuro's voice failed; he cleared his throat. "I'm… losing sensation."

"Hm?"

"I'm losing sensation… in my hands. I'm starting to not feel anything."

"…And?"

The brunet's gaze shot straight up to Shin. "What? I'm losing my sense of touch and…"

"A puppeteer doesn't need to touch, Kankuro-kun. We _become_ the puppet. Can the puppet feel anything? No, of course not – it is made of wood. To make the puppet move like a real person, we must become the puppet, and to become the puppet… things must be sacrificed." Shin-sensei smiled brightly. "You are starting to show potential, Kankuro-kun. All the greats were _blessed_ with this loss of feeling – you will become the best of the greats, I just know it! …Come now, we should get back to the stage."

The elder walked around and away from Kankuro, leaving the puppeteer standing frozen in shock.

* * *

"How was the theatre?"

No reply. Kiba continued to stare at Kankuro, painkillers and a glass of water in each hand. The elder placed his bag next to the couch and walked straight up to Kiba, taking the pills from him and swallowing the water; he handed the empty glass back and moved into the bedroom. Not once did he utter a word.

"Okay, bad day then…" the dog-nin muttered, going back into the kitchen to get more pills and water. As soon as those items had been obtained and swallowed, he strode into the bedroom to find Kankuro sat on the windowsill, with his legs hanging outside the building and a cigarette perched between his lips. "What's wrong?"

"Why do you ask?" Kankuro replied, somewhat emotionlessly. "Nothing's wrong."

"You just stole my painkillers and haven't said a word to me, apart from just now. And now you're being bitchy. Oh, everything appears to be perfectly normal!"

The elder shot him a glare. "I had a stressful day. Give me a break, Mutt."

"So, talk."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because they don't concern you! Gods above, leave me the fuck alone, for once!"

Kiba flinched. "Something _has _happened then. I'm here to help-"

"You're not helping!" Kankuro whirled on the dog-nin and stood up, approaching the other with menacing steps. "Ever since you came along, my life has got even more complicated than it first was. It's getting to the stage where Shin-sensei might take away my right to inherit Kame-za unless I get back to normal and concentrate on the theatre. That doesn't involve you and so doesn't concern you."

"Kankuro, I-" Kiba backed away, bumping into the wall. "I'm sorry I've been distracting you, but I really am trying to help! As soon as Sakura finds a way to stop you losing the ability to touch-"

"I don't need to touch! Puppeteers don't need to touch. The greats didn't, and I want to be one of them."

"Oh, and who told you that?"

"Shin-sensei, of course."

"Yeah, thought he might have…"

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Kankuro demanded, standing nose to nose with the younger.

"It's obvious, Kankuro! You're everything Shin has wanted to be! _You_ can be a great – he can't! He's living through you, and you're his puppet, and you're acting to his lies! He-!"

His head snapped to the side and his teeth clacked together, catching his tongue in between them. Blood welled up in his mouth, dribbling out of the corner of his lips, as his cheek throbbed from the force of Kankuro's punch.

"Okay…" Kiba whispered calmly. "If you want to be the great puppeteer you're capable of being, go for it. But if you want to be a human being… I'll be in Konoha."

The dog-nin walked around the puppeteer and, after scooping up his bag from the main room, left the apartment...

Left Suna.

Left Kankuro.

* * *

"Inuzuka?"

Kiba looked up, meeting Hokage-sama's questioning gaze.

"What happened? I thought things were going… okay," Tsunade continued, propping her chin on her laced fingers. "Sakura-san thinks she's almost reached a solution."

"Kankuro changed his mind," was all Kiba said. "Please excuse me, I need to rest."

"Kiba, what about your jaw?"

The dog-nin turned back, the sharp lighting from the windows accentuating the slight swelling and mess of yellow, blue and purple colouring his skin. In the three days travelling back to Konoha, the bruising had both worsened, then faded, and was now in the stages of healing; it hurt to talk, but it was more a dull throbbing sensation.

He was thankful that he didn't live in the Inuzuka compound anymore; his ma would go completely apeshit and track the puppeteer down…

"I can heal it-"

"No, Tsunade-sama, thank you. It's nearly healed already."

Tsunade shot him a dubious look but nodded nonetheless. "Go on, then. I'll try and delay any missions for you for a few days."

"Thank you, Tsunade-sama."

"One thing, Kiba."

Again, the brunet turned back to the Hokage.

"Did Kankuro do that?"

Kiba shrugged. "I kinda provoked him." With that said, he left with a short bow.

* * *

It was a whole day after Kiba had arrived when he received his first visitor. The harsh, loud banging on his apartment door gave him the idea that his soon-to-be-visitor wasn't exactly happy, so, he sighed, deeply, and dragged himself from the couch, rubbing his tired eyes, but all the while careful of the still-painful bruising on his jaw and cheek.

Damn, he thought. I've felt this chakra before...

"Inuzuka, open this goddamn door!"

Oh yeah. That was Temari alright...

"Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm coming," Kiba mumbled. He petted Akamaru, who had trotted up to see what the commotion was, and unlocked the door; there, indeed, was the eldest, as well as the youngest Sabaku, standing on his doorstep, the former scowling as if he'd killed her cat, and the latter...

Well, Gaara _always_ looked blank, so no change there...

"Can I... help you?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Where's Kankuro?"

"In Suna, where you left him."

"What?" Temari shouted. "Why...? Why is he in Suna when _you_, the one _supposed_ to be getting him back, are here?"

"He's lost, Temari, just-"

But she wasn't having any of it. She pushed him out the way, and stalked into his apartment. Kiba didn't even bother in telling her to get out; he didn't have the energy – a three-day, non-stop journey from Suna, whilst in the middle of summer and whilst in quite a bit of pain _really_ took it out of you. He turned to Gaara, who was still standing outside his door.

"Come in," Kiba told him softly, nodding.

The Kazekage bowed his head in thanks and slipped off his shoes, before entering the small apartment.

"At least _someone_ in the family has manners," he mumbled under his breath.

Gaara shot him a wry smile. "You'd be surprised."

"What the hell are you two whispering about?" the elder snapped.

"Nothing," Kiba sighed, rubbing his brow.

"So what are we going to do?"

"_We_?" the dognin repeated. "Kankuro's made it quite clear that I'm not wanted anywhere near him. I apparently made his life worse." Kiba sighed again. "Listen, Temari... he wants to be with the theatre and he'll stop at nothing to become a master puppeteer."

Even losing his sense of touch, and therefore becoming some kind of... inhuman _thing_... a puppet, he supposed, but... he couldn't tell them that – he promised Kankuro that.

Kiba huffed, ruffling his hair. "Seriously, Temari, I can't."

"Of course you can! Gods above, Inuzuka!"

"Temari, _you_ go speak to Kankuro. _This_-!" He gestured to the bruising on his jaw. "-Is what I got for sticking my nose in. I sure as hell don't want to provoke him again."

Gaara's gaze darkened. "He did that?"

"Doesn't matter if he did or didn't – listen, the point is... I gave him my ultimatum – suffer on his own and become a master puppeteer, or... accept help, accept your mistakes and... well, you get the idea. It's up to him now. If you'll excuse me, I want to get some rest."

He then proceeded to shut himself in his room, uncaring of the fact that he had left the two Suna siblings in his living room.

* * *

"Kankuro?"

He grunted, taking the white stick from his mouth and exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "What is it, 'Wao?"

"Just... wondered where you were," the pink eyed male replied, sliding his back down the alley wall opposite the other. "Tsuki's worried."

"So what?" Kankuro groused, inhaling on his cigarette again.

"What's going on, Kankuro? You've been... distant."

"I've been concentrating."

Iwao scowled. "Where's Kiba-kun? I went to your apartment and he wasn't there."

"He's not my fucking babysitter."

"He's helping you!"

"I don't need help!" Kankuro flicked the dying cigarette butt at Iwao, before standing up and walking away, heading back into the theatre.

"You fucking do, Kankuro! Don't bullshit me!" Iwao leapt to his feet and grabbed onto the back of the elder's tunic. "What the _fuck_ is goin' on? Ever since Shin-sensei pulled you backstage after you were late last week, you've changed. You're different. A new Kankuro... I don't like this new Kankuro-sempai."

"Yeah well, deal with it."

Just as the Sabaku opened the door to the theatre, Iwao let out a laugh. It wasn't filled with mirth or humour at all. In fact, it was cold and derisive, mocking Kankuro without words. He turned, glaring at the blond.

"What?" he demanded.

"You know... when I first met you... hah, do you remember? We were seven. You had already been part of Kame-za for two years, and you were so confident in your abilities; _I_ was confident in your abilities... I looked up to you, thought you could make it big – be one of the greats, even when you weren't even _ashizukai_... what I am now, what you look down on."

"I don't-"

"You do. You do, Kankuro. You look down on me, the lowly _leg-handler_. But I don't care. One day, I'm going to be good enough to be respected by everyone, not just you." Iwao paused, walking up to Kankuro. "Good luck with becoming one of the Greats, Kankuro-sempai. But that's the key word, isn't it? One. _One of_ the Greats. I don't disrespect them at all – but they were all the same. They had amazing skills with puppets, but they weren't _human_. They were hermits: they had no family, no friends, no lovers...

"Kankuro, I have so much faith in your abilities that I believe you can become a new Great – one who _doesn't_ need to lose the sense of touch... and Kiba-kun feels it too. In fact, I think he believes in it more than me. You're better than Shin-sensei, and he knows it, and so he's living through you. The old man is using you, Kankuro. Just think about it..."

* * *


	8. Playing the Part

_Chapter no. :_ 8  
_Chapter title:_ Playing the Part  
_Story rating:_ M  
_BETAed:_ **Beta'ed by Ryukai MJ**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Naruto. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Naruto , it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings:_ Would put some, but (one) I can't be arsed, and (two) I doubt I could traumatise you further... or could I...?  
_Review count upon update:_ 43  
_Word count upon update: _23,560  
_Notes: _I love you all~ This chapter is mostly short scenes put together - sorry~  
(Has this been beta'ed? Ryukai, M'dear, if this hasn't, i'm so sorry. My brain? Not here. Whoops)

* * *

He'd slept on the wrong side. Oh, he could feel it. He'd _definitely _slept on the wrong side.

Kiba groaned, sitting up and scratching the back of his head. The bruising on his jaw and cheek had faded, but it still ached and throbbed a little in time to his heart beat when he knocked it; he ignored it. There was a more pressing matter ahead, and he realised quickly that this newly-recognised problem was what woke him up, and not his uncomfortable sleeping arrangement.

Akamaru was sat in his now-open doorway, staring at him. He whined low in his throat, cocking his head to the side, causing his ears to flop in a puppy-like manner which was incredibly reminiscent of his dog's younger years.

"What's wrong?" Kiba asked, stretching and sighing when his back popped.

His dog suddenly turned around and trotted out of sight, leaving only the blur of his fluffy tail imprinted in his owner's eye. Kiba frowned, shucking the covers from his body and slowly following his dog. Yawning broadly, and quite loudly too, he scratched his head again and followed Akamaru as his dog trotted to the door.

"What?" Kiba stopped. "Nah-ah – I'm not walking you now. Is that why you woke me up?"

Akamaru shook his head and whined, scratching the door.

"Seriously..."

The dog-nin reached for the latch on the door. Granted, such a trivial, civilian-like measure of security, but all the apartments in his block had them, and it was just an added something that stopped people from merely waltzing into his home; he had traps set up, but they react to any other chakra apart from his or Akamaru's.

"Unless it's 'cause you need the toilet – there's the litter-tray for tha-..." Kiba trailed off, frozen at the sight of what was to the side of his door outside. "K...Kankuro?"

There was no reply. Of course there wasn't – the guy was fast asleep, brow furrowed as it rested on bent knees, propped up by Karasu by his side. Kiba gaped.

"What the...?"

Kiba stood frozen in place, eyes flitting all over Kankuro's slumped form. There was a bandage wrapped around the elder's hand and wrist, just peeking out of the sleeves of his tunic but apart from that, the other looked... normal. No... not normal – there were dark circles around his eyes, and the creases in his brow looked as though it was permanently carved into his skin. In fact, speaking of his skin, Kankuro did look a little paler than usual... What the hell had happened?

Akamaru's bark brought him back out of his wonderings; it brought Kankuro back as well, the puppeteer jerking awake with a grunt, eyes wide as his mind shook off the cobwebs of sleep and dreams, breathing returning to normal slowly but surely.

"Kankuro...?" Kiba tried.

The Suna male looked up at him. The dog nin couldn't find any words to say that would make Kankuro comfortable in his position – sleeping outside someone's door was not exactly dignified – and so simply stepped back a little, opening the door open and cocking his head towards the apartment in a silent invitation, which the elder took with equal quietness. Kankuro stood, stiffly, joints clicking as much as his puppets as he moved. He grabbed Karasu under the puppet's arm and quite unceremoniously carried Crow into the apartment. Kiba couldn't help but gawp.

Kankuro must be truly fucked if he was so... un-careful with his beloved...

* * *

"What happened?"

The puppeteer sighed, forest eyes unfocused as he stared at the floor. "Shit."

"Huh..." The younger held out a steaming mug of tea. "Here. Drink this. Konoha may be warm but the nights can get cold as hell."

"Got anything stronger?"

Kiba frowned. "I'm not giving you alcohol _now_. It's first thing in the morning and-"

"You can't fucking tell me what to do!" Suddenly, Kankuro was on his feet, eyes blazing with anger and lip curling. "Don't-!"

He broke off. Hissing with frustration, he turned away, running his hands through his hair and gripping the back of his neck as he walked to the window. There was a brief silence, only broken by Kankuro's ragged breathing.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Kankuro." Kiba's voice was firm, yet somehow gentle. "What has happened?"

The elder paused. "You were right. You were fucking right the whole time... It pisses me off when you leaf-nin do this." Kankuro sighed, body visibly slumping. "I... I don't want to be a puppet. I want to _control_ the puppet, not... I want to be human."

Kiba's eyes brightened. "That's good. But, I'm guessing... some people weren't happy with your decision."

"Shin-sensei... he took my rights to the theatre away... kicked me out of the theatre itself and... I was so infuriated... I-I punched him. I didn't mean to, I really didn't. But... the things he said – I just reacted. That's when I got driven out of the theatre physically. Everyone saw what I did and..."

"Even Tsukiko and-?"

"No... they tried to help me but we..." Kankuro trailed off with a sigh.

"Surely... Surely you could have...?"

"I only had Karasu and-" He broke off. "When I spun my chakra strings, it hurt. It hurt a lot – shooting pains up and down my arms. So I just took Karasu and ran like a coward."

"Fuck," Kiba swore, striding up to the elder, and staring him in the eye. "You're not a coward! Shut the hell up, Kankuro. You couldn't fight them off – it happens to everyone. And I doubt you wanted to properly fight them – that would have hurt them. But as soon as Iwao and Tsukiko tell them what's happened-"

"I can't go back to Suna. Every puppeteer is thirsty for my blood. The second I even breathe in the air that passes through Suna, I'll be set upon by hundreds of actors and puppeteers, including the Puppet Troupe." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Fuck... I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Well..." Kiba murmured. He suddenly realised that he had gripped the elder's upper arm, and relaxed his grip slightly, staring idly at the bunched cloth. "First, you sleep. Secondly, we go to Tsunade and Sakura and... then... then, we'll figure out something."

Kankuro looked down at him with an unreadable expression. "Why are you doing all this for me?"

"Because if I don't, I'll get blown back to the first century by a certain sister of yours?"

* * *

Kiba had visited Hokage-sama on a number of occasions, but never had a visit been so... on edge. The air was tense and somewhat nail-biting – or was that just Kiba himself? Might have been. Kankuro just looked plain bored as Tsunade felt his arms and hands, massaging muscles with chakra and muttering unintelligible things to Shizune to write down; they obviously made sense to both Shizune _and_ Sakura, as the pink-haired girl nodded occasionally, replying with equally-confusing medical jargon.

Yeah... it was just Kiba.

He was worried. Honestly, he was. Who knew what was _really_ wrong with Kankuro... well, he hoped that Tsunade and Sakura did, so that they could help him, but-

"Kiba?"

He flinched, looking up, meeting Kankuro's eye first, before Tsunade's. "Sorry," he said, laughing nervously and scratching the back of his neck. "Lost in my own thoughts."

Kankuro snorted quietly, rolling his eyes. "If it's possible..."

"Well, looks like someone can still feel their funny bone," Kiba shot back.

"Kiba!" Sakura gasped. "Apologise!"

"I deserved it," Kankuro told her, shaking his head.

Tsunade cleared her throat. "Anyway... I asked you, Kiba, what did this Iwao told you when you first met him?"

"Erm..." Kiba thought back. "He... compared Kankuro's... predicament with the sharingan – how too much chakra goes through the nerves and-"

"I see."

The Hokage nodded idly, before muttering more jargon to her aid and apprentice, ignoring Kiba and Kankuro, generally, apart from the puppeteer's arms. The dog-nin met the elder's green eyes, but received only a raising of an eyebrow and a slight tilt of the head; Kiba interpreted _that_ look as, '_You owe me a goddamn drink, Mutt_'.

* * *

They left the Hokage's building in silence. Blood, skin, chakra and even urine samples had been taken from Kankuro and all that had been said was, '_We'll get back to you_'. And they could do nothing.

"Apart from while away the days for a while..." Kankuro muttered sourly. "Where's the nearest drug store?"

Kiba's eyes shot to him. "Why?"

"I need some Rohypnol... Unless you guys illegalised it."

"Date rape drug? Jeez... why that?" Kiba asked, trying to ignore the strange glances the two were getting. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"In bed?"

"Ha-ha, funny. No, seriously. Why do you need to forget now until... then?"

"Because I'm metaphorically shitting my pants here, Mutt," Kankuro mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

'Ah,' Kiba thought. 'Damnit. He looked really unfazed by it before... now that he's in limbo, he's...'

"Come on," the dog-nin said out loud. "Let's get that drink you demanded."

* * *

"Just don't overdo it."

Kankuro shot him a dirty look, elbows propped up on the bar. "Fuck you, you're not my sister. I'll drink how much I fuckin' want."

"Good luck finding your way back to my apartment, then."

"Hah," the puppeteer snorted, before gulping down the cup of sake and gesturing for another. "If Tsunade finds out you've neglected me..." He left the reminder hanging in the air.

"Fuck you," Kiba growled, downing his own cup and ordering one more. "Damn. Now I remember why I don't take escort or bodyguard missions anymore."

"I had to do one of them once... snotty little brat of a princess..."

Kiba snorted. "What happened?"

"Kicked her halfway to our destination, and then shoved her inside Kuroari for the rest of the journey." He grinned as he watched Kiba laugh into his cup of wine. "What? It kept her safe... shut her up too... gods, I hate kids."

"I know. Naruto told me about the first time he met you Sand nin. You threatened Konohamaru, didn't you?"

"That little shit ran into me and then ran his mouth. He fuckin' deserved what I was gonna give him..." He trailed off into a mumble, drinking the new cup of sake more leisurely than before.

Kiba rolled his eyes. "You really _don't_ like kids..."

"S'why we clash."

"I'm not a kid!"

"No, I didn't mean physically. Mentally." Kankuro grinned at him, that cocky little smirk that the dog nin had come to like. "You're like... no, you're not like a kid. An excited puppy. Your dog is more mature than you."

"That's what Shino says sometimes. Guess it must be true..."

There was a small pause, filled with the background noise of the bar staff and customers around them. There was no tension in the silence between them, although both of them scanned their minds for _something_ to talk about...

"I should be allowed to drink double what I usually do, you know..." Kankuro suddenly said.

"No."

"Stop acting like a mother, Mutt – your shit isn't as strong as Suna's. I can't get drunk on this."

"You're not _going_ to get drunk."

Kankuro laughed. "I am." He glanced at Kiba in the corner of his eye, grinning. "You don't want me to drink more, because then _you'd_ have to drink more," he murmured, leaning closer. "And if, when you're a little drunk, you have a tendency to crawl into someone's bed, I wonder what you'll do if you _are_ drunk." He leaned even closer, breath ghosting over Kiba's lips. "You're scared I'm gonna seduce you, and have my wicked way with you or something...?"

"Don't have to be drunk to do that..." Kiba whispered back.

Kankuro paused. His green eyes stared mercilessly into darkest-brown, searching for any doubt, any form of intoxication flickering in those eyes, but found nothing of the sort; he did find a challenging glimmer, however, and despite the little voice in the back of his mind telling him not to, he shifted forward, pressing his mouth to the others, firmly, his hand balancing himself on the end of Kiba's stool whilst his arm rested on the bar itself. Both their eyes slid shut, and the sounds of the inn dimmed to a rumbling echo. Only their lips touched – they didn't _embrace_ or _hold onto_ one another; this wasn't a romantic kiss. It wasn't even close.

It was just... a kiss. A dare. A challenge. A _test_.

Kiba's breath hitched as his lips tingled, excitement shooting through his veins as he realised that Sabaku no Kankuro – the bastard of a Suna puppeteer who had saved his life twice – was kissing him. _Kissing him_. In a public place. In front of lots of people. He didn't care, but...

At least, he didn't _think_ he cared.

Well, he _did_ care when Kankuro's lips moved against his, but in an entirely different way. Dear gods, this guy was... Kiba couldn't finish the sentence; his mind was through with forming intelligible phrases, as it had zeroed in on where they were joined, shutting down when a tongue swiped the crease of his li-

"Kiba!"

The dog-nin literally ripped himself away from Kankuro, and whirled around on his seat to find Naruto striding towards him, grinning as bright as the sun. Sasuke trailed behind him, glaring at people who stared at either of them.

"H-Hey, Naruto!" Kiba called, scratching the back of his neck.

"Hey!" the blonde yelled back, grinning even brighter, if it was possible. "How's it going? I thought you were in Suna, tracking down that bastard."

Kiba cleared his throat. Beside him, Kankuro chuckled, the sound shooting straight through him, pleasantly. "Er, yeah, I was. I came back, though."

"Well, I see that! So, what happened?" Naruto caught sight of the male beside him. "Oh, and who's this? A cousin of yours?"

"Dobe," Sasuke sighed. "That's Kankuro."

"Pfft, no it's not. He doesn't have that crazy face paint on."

"People do wash, you know," Kankuro muttered, downing his cup of sake. He scowled when Naruto leant in close to his face; he was okay with Kiba doing it, but this guy...? "Fuck off, Uzumaki."

Meanwhile, Sasuke was fixing Kiba was a humorous look, which the dog-nin knew translated as '_I know what you've been doing..._'. He merely shrugged, and drank half his cup of sake. He didn't care. It was just a kiss. Just a kiss.

* * *

The bar had become too busy and so they left. Apparently, a Jounin was retiring (a rare event indeed) and his party was being held there; many shinobi had been encouraged to come, and Naruto had gone on one or two missions with him, so that was why he was there. Kiba had never even spoken to the man, and so didn't find that it was his place to be.

Besides, Kankuro was beginning to get... _antsy_. For a theatre type, he sure wasn't a people person, Kiba thought idly.

It was getting to evening time, and the bars and eateries were slowly filling up. Shinobi weren't renowned for their cooking skills, so many ate out or bought pre-made food to take home; it wasn't just down to cooking skill, however – the main reason was that being a ninja was tiring, and many didn't have the time or energy to make a full meal. Kiba even knew a few who depended solely on ration bars.

He shuddered at the thought.

"What's wrong?"

Kiba's gaze shot to Kankuro. "Hm?"

"You shivered. Are you cold?" the puppeteer asked.

"What, are you going to be chivalrous and give me your coat?"

Kankuro stopped dead in the street with a derisive look on his face, eyebrow quirked. Kiba stopped too and, after glancing at Kankuro's bare arms, he grinned sheepishly.

"If you _had_ a coat," he corrected. "Come on, I'm starving."

They started moving again.

"You cook?"

"Why the hell is that so surprising?" Kiba demanded, faking a hurt pout.

"Because you _don't_."

"...Yeah, you're right." The brunet laughed. "Nah, Hana – my sister – makes me food, and I just heat it up in the oven. Easy, since she has somewhat-stable hours of working, being a vet and all. Occasionally, she gets called away for a mission, or she has to work later than usual, so that leaves me to fend for myself. Plus, we need to stop by anyway. Need to pick up Akamaru."

"I _was_ starting to wonder where the dog was..." Kankuro muttered.

"Check-up. Booster shots, monitoring of chakra levels and fluctuations – you know, that sorta shit."

"All too well..."

Kiba grinned. "I'm surprised you hadn't _had_ any vaccinations."

"There's rarely any disease in Suna – too dry and way too hot. Or too cold in the evenings. There's no need to waste money on petty injections." He unconsciously rubbed his arm. "And you have these every year? Fuckin'..."

"Yeah, well, Sakura's only worried. Besides, didn't she say something about a possible treatment you may have to have lowering immune systems or something?" Kiba asked, receiving a shrug in return. "Besides, looks like you're going to be in Konoha for some time. We've got the best climate for diseases."

"Lucky you," Kankuro replied, dryly. "I'm gonna be here for a long time... guess I'm gonna have to get used to your Leaf-idiosyncrasies... great."

"Tsunade was confident that you'll get better soon. It won't be that long until you're back in Suna with your thea-..." he trailed off, eyes widening in realisation. "Kankuro..."

The puppeteer shrugged, head bowed. "Like I said, I'm gonna be here for a long time... might as well get used to it."

* * *

Demi: Do ya love me~?


	9. Not Part of the Script

Demi: I am terribly sorry about the more than epic delay in updating this story. University happened, moving country and I've recently fallen quite ill, so all that has come together in a sort of euuuuurgh way. Also, i've been cooped up with my Assassin's Creed story, and my interest in Naruto has failed - I just haven't kept up with the manga at all. In fact, the last i read of it, was... shite, i actually can't remember xD Safe to say that this is more than an AU now - there will be things that don't add up because i'm completely unaware of what has occured recently/in the past year of Naruto haha, faiiil.

But i'm determined to finish this story. _Shadow_ (my Zelda story) is being rewritten, and _Need You _(the AssCreed story) is continuing as planned - both my editor and I are shifting to get our arses re-inspired.

Also, to Ryukai-MJ, I'm sorry about not sending this to you for editing and generally keeping you informed. I'm a bad panda Dx

* * *

"...uro..."

His whole body tingled with shivers, as grinning lips teased his skin with nipping kisses, trailing down his neck and collarbone and settling over his navel, before licking a long, slippery stripe up to his Adam's apple. His body shuddered as the cool air attacked the wet trail, and he arched up, moaning when his chest touched the incredibly warm body above him. Reaching up and grabbing the other, he pulled them down, groaning at the warm weight on top of him but breaking off when a mouth covered his, tongue slipping past his lips. His hips jolted upwards at the sensation, grinding up against- oh gods, that felt good.

He pulled his lips away from the other's, mouth opening to let out a loud-

_Bark_.

Kiba jolted awake and promptly fell off his bed, crashing to the floor with a muffled _thump_; if he hadn't had been so tangled in his covers, the fall would have hurt like a bitch in heat. Speaking of a bitch in heat...

He cursed. That had been an amazing dream. An _amazing_ one. He hadn't had one like this for... for... _years_. Although it had caused a certain side-effect that he would have to take care of later, it was worth it. But he couldn't help but realise that this dream must have been caused by his impromptu kiss with Kankuro the day before, as when this dream-being kissed him, he could taste-

"What the hell happened?" a voice demanded in his doorway.

Kankuro.

* * *

"You fell out of bed?"

"Stop grinning," Kiba snapped, placing Akamaru's food on the floor. "Or I _will_ put Rohypnol in your coffee."

"Kinky," Kankuro muttered. Suddenly, he yawned.

That sent Kiba off too; he covered his mouth as a large yawn came over him, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "Gods, you bastard," he cursed. "What's wrong? Didn't get enough sleep?"

"You kept me up half the night."

Kiba froze. "W-What?"

"You just kept groaning really loudly..."

"R-Really? Oh..." Now mortification gushed through him; dear gods, how _embarrassing_? "E-Erm..."

"Sounded like a bad dream."

What? "What?"

"You just kept groaning and whimpering, and saying 'No, no, no' a lot," Kankuro murmured, staring with glazed eyes down into his coffee. "You sounded... in pain."

Wait, what? He was talking about an entirely different dream, then... because Kiba definitely remembered agreeing whole-heartedly with what was going on, and it certainly wasn't pain he was feeling...

But then, what was _this _dream that Kankuro heard him having? He didn't remember having a bad dream or a nightmare at all. Possibly a night terror then, Kiba surmised, shrugging and pouring his own coffee.

"Sorry, I don't remember it."

"Mm, you settled down after a couple of hours," the puppeteer told him. "Even Akamaru was worried."

"You were worried?" Kiba asked, grinning cheekily. He sat down at the table opposite the elder, stroking Akamaru's head when it rested on his thigh.

Kankuro snorted. "Not particularly. Just wondered if the dream was going to make you rabid. I've seen a few dogs do that. Not pretty. Seen people's faces literally ripped off..."

"Lovely..." Kiba shook his head. "But I seriously don't remember this dream."

"Not everyone remembers dreams they have."

Part of Kiba wished he would forget the dream he_ did_ remember. Parts just kept popping up, causing him to lose track of what he was doing or for warmth to pool in the base of his stomach or...

He mentally shook his head. No, stop thinking about _that_...

But he honestly couldn't remember any part of his night being _bad_, or enough to warrant whimpering and groans of pain. All he could dredge from his mind was- yes, _that_. Unless the nightmare led into the dream, and his mind had blocked off the bad part in favour of savouring the good bits. Plausible; minds were tricky things and could be little bastards every once in a while. Yet, the dream began with him lying on the bed and lips descending on his neck and...

No, he had been embraced. He was standing and being held against that warm body, hot hands shifting up-

No... no, cold hands. The hands were cool, much cooler than the warm body he was against, but that didn't bother his dream-self, only causing pleasant shivers to cruise his body, as the cold hands shifted up the back of his shirt and drifted carefully, teasingly along his spine and back down again, trailing around his waist so that warmer arms could hold him tightly against the firm frame of-

"Kiba."

He jolted again, nearly knocking his coffee over. He cursed, and took a calming breath.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked Kankuro.

The elder paused, regarding him with a disguised stare. "There's someone at the door... Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Must be more tired than I thought," he mumbled. With all his strength, he fought down the blush that had been trying to drift onto his cheeks, but found himself slowly losing. Quickly, he stood and left the kitchen, taking deep breaths as he went, opening the door to find- "T-Temari! H... Weren't you going back to Suna?"

"Change of plan," she snapped.

"Temari," a cool voice murmured. Kiba poked his head around the door to find himself face-to-face with Gaara. "Calm down. There's no point in getting riled." The Kazekage looked directly at Kiba. "We know Kankuro is here, and we know what happened."

Temari let out a harsh breath, a cross between a huff and a sigh; it sounded like she was trying to calm herself.

"We just want to talk to him," Gaara continued. "If that's okay with him."

"Of course it's okay..."

Kiba turned to see Kankuro standing awkwardly in the kitchen doorway.

"Yeah, well, that's a first!" Temari hissed, glaring. "You haven't let us speak to you for nearly a year!"

"Temari."

She glanced down at Gaara.

"Stay out here."

"Wha-?"

"You need to calm down," the redhead continued quietly.

"Gaa-!"

"Out."

Temari paused and stepped away from the doorway. Kiba nodded at Gaara, when the Kazekage asked him silently for permission to enter, and so the redhead slipped his shoes off and passed over the threshold. Kiba closed the door behind the other and was about to leave for the kitchen when-

"Stay."

The dog-nin froze, looking up at Kankuro just as he was about to pass by the elder. "...Okay, if you're sure..."

There was a moment of stifling, tense silence.

"So are you going to explain to me why I received a message from Baki telling me that the entire theatre district of Suna have gone berserk, declaring war on _you_?"

Kankuro shrugged. "Everyday life in Suna."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Gaara murmured, eyes and expression emotionless. "Particularly when Baki had to render the entire Puppet Troupe completely useless, meaning that the missions being sent our way are having to be passed onto Konoha if they _need_ to be done, because Suna's shinobi force is effectively slashed in half."

"I didn't realise it had gone that bad," Kankuro murmured. He shook his head. "An argument between Shin-sensei and I got out of hand, that's all."

"You hit him."

"...He said some things."

"What things?"

The puppeteer shrugged.

"Kankuro..."

"I can't remember much anyway. There's no point in-"

"Kankuro... tell me what was said. I cannot defend you if I don't know the full story."

Kiba placed a hand on Kankuro's upper arm. "Kankuro... maybe you should tell him. Everything, I mean. He can help, and... he's going to find out sooner or later. I mean, I know and-"

"-And you weren't supposed to know. It's only because that fuckin' idiot, Iwao _suspected_ something and told _you_," Kankuro cut in, icily. He huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets, shoulder hunching. "No one was... was supposed to know, but I..." He clenched his eyes shut. "I know it's good that you _did_ find out because I would lose all sense of being human if you weren't..."

_...By my side._

"...Here," he finished, eyes still shut.

"...Kankuro..." Kiba sighed. "He's not going to judge you. He's your brother. And Temari's not going to give you hell, is she?" He paused. "Well, maybe for not telling her about this shit... damn older sisters... 'Kuro, just tell him. In one big breath, get it over with. Before I set Akamaru on your ass."

The puppeteer tensed visibly. "I..." His eyes slid open, but remained out of focus. "I can't feel anymore. My hands are so numb and my arms are... soon, I'll be just like a puppet."

Gaara was silent for a heart beat or two. "What can be done about it?"

"Tsunade-sama, Shizune-san and Sakura are looking into it," Kiba told the Kazekage quietly. "They did tests yesterday, and we're waiting for results, but they're sure something can be done."

"Good..." Gaara murmured. "Temari isn't going to be pleased that you hid something like this from her." He looked down at the ground. "I must say that I'm hurt that you did not think you could trust me, after all the things I confided in you."

"I'm sorry," Kankuro said quietly. "I just... I... Shin made me believe that it was... right."

Gaara nodded slowly. "I will have to tell Baki about this. He will not be happy about this either. And Shin will be questioned, of course. I'll have Temari on the case... I would advise you to remain here, in Konoha."

"Yeah, sure..." Kankuro mumbled. He scratched the back of his head. "Listen, I'm not trying to get rid of you, but you better get going. If you're going to try and pacify the entire theatre district, you'll need to start as soon as possible." He sighed as Gaara nodded. "I'm... sorry for this shit, Gaara..."

"No point in apologising. What has passed has passed. I'm doing what any brother would do – I'm doing what _you_ would do for me. This has gone beyond Kage responsibilities."

* * *

"Here."

Kankuro slowly looked up and cautiously accepted the cup. "I thought you were going motherly on me and making sure I didn't drink too much. It's not even midday."

"You look like you need it," Kiba mumbled, sitting next to him on the couch.

"What I need is for everything to be..." Kankuro drained half the cup, and ran a hand through his hair. "To be better... to not be like _this_."

"Shit happens – Gaara will sort it out."

"I hope so." The elder slumped back against the couch. "Listen, Kiba... Thank you. For-"

"I get it, it's okay. I understand. And it's fine." Kiba grinned reassuringly at him. "Honestly. Just doing what Konoha nin are supposed to do."

At Kankuro's confused stare, Kiba's grin grew.

"Sticking our noses so far into other people's business, they can't help but surrender."

Kankuro let out a strangely-canine bark of laughter, shaking his head sadly. "That's true. Completely true..." He glanced at Kiba in the corner of his eye. "But sometimes, I guess, it's not bad that you do – Orochimaru, Akatsuki..."

"You..."

"I'm on the same level as them in terms of trouble?"

"Oh, much worse than them, I can assure you," Kiba replied, laughing and leaning back against the arm-rest of the couch, grinning broadly all the while. "I had to be signed off all missions to pursue you, so even Tsunade thinks you are too."

"Either that or she doesn't think you're able to handle other missions-"

He was cut off by a pillow to the face. He dropped his sake when his reflexes called for him to grab the projectile, but then frowned at the spilled mess. Slowly, he looked up at Kiba and cocked an eyebrow.

"What was that for?"

The dog-nin shrugged, nonchalantly. "You insulted my skill."

"You knocked over my sake." Kankuro's eyebrow twitched in mock-annoyance. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Well, I could always-

Kiba mentally flinched, cutting that thought off before it could lead... elsewhere. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

"I can get you a new cup," he suggested. "Or we can go... somewhere? For food and... yeah."

"After you clean that up."

Kiba quirked an eyebrow at the elder's tone of voice. "I hope," the dog-nin said, "you weren't suggesting that I'm some kind of bitch. Yours, namely."

"Not at all, not at all..." Kankuro's tone of voice said otherwise. "But I bet you'd enjoy that."

"Ha, in your dreams," Kiba shot back.

No, in _your_ dreams, Kiba, his traitorous mind retorted.

The puppeteer, however, merely chuckled and leant back against the back of the couch, green eyes half closed in contented amusement. Kiba sighed, shaking his head; he knew Kankuro was waiting for him to clean the damn sake off the floor. Ugh.

"Akamaru," Kiba called, pointing to the floor.

"You can't..."

But Kankuro trailed off, when the large white dog did indeed trot to the intended space and begin to lick the spilt drink. Kiba quirked an eyebrow, smug grin plastered on his face, as he stared the elder right in the eye, but all he got was an averted gaze and a huffing sigh.

"You know... I never, in a million years, thought I'd say this but... I think I miss Kei."

"Your alcoholic, chain-smoking human-turned-feline coffee-fiend? Hah, seriously? Just from watching Akamaru mop up sake? Jeez, Kankuro..."

"I know..." the puppeteer agreed, shrugging. The mood suddenly plummeted.

"You miss home."

"...I d-"

"Anyone in your situation would, Kankuro," Kiba murmured, staring the elder straight in the eye. "You've been driven out of your home and your country, you've left your friends behind, everything you love... fuck your manly pride, for a moment – this is me you're talking to."

"...Manly...? You need to stay away from those green-spandex freaks... starting to sound like them."

"Hey!"

* * *

Demi: Any reviews are very much appreciated. I need to get a kick in the arse to keep going, seriously. I'm trying to find lots of yumming fanart and stories to keep the KankyKiba flame going, but knowing people are waiting on updates from me is the biggest kick. Cheers for all the support, guys :D


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